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(Figures with asterisks indicate original articles. Figures 
without asterisks indicate abstracts, reviews, society reports, 
correspondence and discussions. The names of the authors are 
given in parenthesis). 

American Psychopathological Association, Sixth Annual 

Meeting 263 

Anger (Hall) *8i 

Backward Child (Morgan) 68 

Brain, Study of (Fiske) 67 

Character (Shand) 144 

Christianity, (Hannay) 218 

Continuity (Lodge) 70 

Criminal Types (Wetzel & Wilmanns) -75 

Daily Life, Psychology of (Seashore) 293 

Delinquent, (Healy) 360 

Delusions, Constructive (MacCurdy and Treadway) ^153 

Development and Purpose (Hobhouse) 77 

Dream Analysis (Solomon) *I9 

Dream Life (Anon) *ioo 

Dreams, Interpretation of (Horton) ' ^369 

Dreams, Meaning of (Coriat) *433 

Everyday life, Psycho Analysis of (Bellamy) *32 

Feeble Mindedness (Goddard) 213 

Freud and his School (Van Renterghem) *4 

Human Motives (Putnam) 363 

Hysteria as a Weapon (Meyerson) *i 

Hystero-Epilepsy, Psychoanalytic Treatment of (Emerson) *3i$ 

Laughter (Bergson) i 219 

Mental Disorders (Harrington) f 38 

Metaphysics, Necessity of (Putnam) *88 

Nightmare, Analysis of (Bellamy) *i I 

?erception, Illusions of (Arps) *2og 

Personality, Delusions of (Southard) ^241 

?hipps Psychiatric clinic 223 

Possession (Fraser) 400 

Post-traumatic Nervous and Mental Disorders (Benon) .... 73 

Primitive Races, Sex Worship and Symbolism in (Brown) ^297, *4i 8 

Primitive Tribes, Psychoneuroses among (Coriat) *2Oi 

Psychical, Adventurings in (Bruce) 71 

Psychobiology, (Dunlap) 294 

Psychology, Educational (Thorndike) 300 

Psychology, General and Applied (Miinsterberg) 295 

Psychoneuroses, Treatment of *385? *434 

Sexual Tendencies in Monkeys, etc (Hamilton) 140 

Sleep and Sleeplessness (Bruce) 367 

Social Psychology (McDougall) 148 


Socrates, Psychopathology of (Karpas) **#5 

Stammering, Remarks upon Dr. Coriat's paper (Solomon) ... *I2O 

Stuttering, Experimental Study of (Fletcher) 142 

Stuttering, Psychological Analysis of (Swift) *225 

Supernatural Explanations (Williams) *23 

Tics (Solomon) *329 


Anon I oo 

Arps, George F 209 

Bellamy, Raymond II, 32, 68, 433 

Brown, Sanger 297, 418 

Carringtoft, H 71 

Castle, W. E 213 

Clark, L. Pierce 363 

Coriat, Isador H , . , 201, 367 

Dearborn, George V. N 70, 77, 294 

Elliott, R. M 295 

Emerson, L. E 315 

Fraser, Donald 400 

Hall, G. Stanley , 81 

Harrington, Milton A 138 

Horton, Lydiard % 369 

Holt, E. B 366 

Jones, Ernest 144, 217, 219 

Karpas, Morris J .75, 185 

MacCurdy, John T 153, 360 

Myerson, A. I 

Putnam, James J 88 

Solomon, Meyer 19, X2O, 140, 142, 1:48, 223, 329 

Southard, E. E 241 

Swift, Walter B 225 

Taylor, E. W 67, 73 

Treadway, Walter L 153 

Troland, Leonard T ....,* 293 

Van Renterghem, A. W 46 

Van Renterghem, A. W 46 

Williams, Tom A 23<5, 434 




Clinical Director and Pathologist, Taunton State Hospital 
Taunton State Hospital Papers, 1914.$ 

progress in our understanding of hysteria has 
come largely through the elaboration of the so- 
called mechanisms by which the symptoms arise. 
These mechanisms have been declared to reside 
or to have their origin in the subconsciousness or cocon- 
sciousness* The mechanisms range all the way from the 
conception of Janet that the personality is disintegrated 
owing to lowering of the psychical tension to that of Freud, 
who conceives all hysterical symptoms as a result of dis- 
sociation arising through conflicts between repressed sexual 
desires and experiences and the various censors organized 
by the social life. Without in any way intending to set 
up any other general mechanism or to enter into the con- 
troversy raging concerning the Freudian mechanism, which 
at present is the storm center, the writer reports a case in 
which the origin of the symptoms can be traced to a more 
simple and fairfy familiar mechanism, one which, in its 
essence, is merely an intensification of a normal reaction 
of many women to marital difficulties. In other words, 
women frequently resort to measures which bring about an 
acute discomfort upon the part of their mate, through his 
pity, compassion and self-accusation. They resort to tears 
as their proverbial weapon for gaining their point* In this 
case the hysterical symptoms seem to have been the substi- 
tute for tears in a domestic battle. 

Case History Patient is a woman, aged thirty-eight, 

2 Hysteria as a Weapon in Marital Conflicts 

of American birth and ancestry* Family history is negative 
so far as mental disease is concerned, but there seems to have 
been a decadence of stock as manifested in the steady dropping 
of her family in the social scale. She is one of two children, 
there being a brother, who,, from all accounts, is a fairly 
industrious, but poverty-stricken farmer* Her early child- 
hood was spent in a small village in Massachusetts. She 
received but little education, largely because she had no 
desire to study and no aptitude for learning, although she is 
by no means feeble-minded. The menstrual periods started 
at fourteen, and have been without any noteworthy accom- 
panying phenomena ever since. History is negative so far 
as other diseases arc concerned. She worked as a domestic 
and in factories until she was married for the first time at the 
age of twenty. She had no children by this marriage. JU is 
stated on good authority that she took preventive measures 
against conception and if pregnant induced abortion by 
drugs and mechanical measures. At the end of eight years 
there was a divorce. Just which one of the partners was 
at fault is impossible to state, but that there was more than 
mere incompatibility is evident by the reticence of all con- 
cerned. Shortly afterward, she married her present hus- 
band with whom she has lived for about nine years. He is a 
steady drinker, but is a good workman, has never been dis- 
charged, and, apparently, his drinking habits do not inter- 
fere with the main tenor of his life. He lives with the patient 
in a small house of which they occupy two garret rooms, 
meagerly furnished, though without evidence of dire poverty. 
From her fifteenth year the patient lias been subject to 
fainting spells. By all accounts they come on usually after 
quarrels, disagreements or disappointments. They are not 
accompanied by blanching, by clonic or tonic movements of 
any kind, they last for uncertain periods ranging from five 
minutes to an hour or more, and consciousness docs not 
seem to be totally lost. In addition she has vomiting spells, 
these likewise occurring when balked in her desires. She is 
subject to headaches, usually on one half of the head, but 
frequently frontal. There is no regular period of occurrence 
of these headaches except that there is also some relation to 
quarrels, etc. On Several occasions the patient has lost her 

A. Myerson 3 

voice for short periods ranging from a few minutes to 
several hours following particularly stormy domestic 

On July 29 of this year she was suddenly paralyzed. 
That is to say, she was unable to move the right arm, the 
right leg, the right side of the face, and she lost the power 
of speech entirely; there was complete aphonia. This 
"stroke" was not accompanied by unconsciousness, but was 
preceded by severe headache and much nausea. During 
the three weeks that followed she remained in bed, recovering 
only the function of the arm* Her husband fed her by 
forcing open her mouth with a spoon. She did not lose con- 
trol of the sphincters. As she manifested no other progress 
to recovery despite the administration of drugs, numerous- 
rubbings and liniments, the physician in charge called 
the writer into consultation. 

Physical Examination Aug. 20 A well-developed, fairly 
well nourished woman, appearing to be about thirty-five years 
of age* Face wears an anxious expression and she shuns the 
examiner's direct gaze. Movements of the right hand and 
arm are now fairly free. There is no appreciable difficulty 
in any of its functions according to tests made for ataxia, 
strength, recognition of form, finer movements, etc., in fact, 
she uses this har>d to write with, as she cannot talk at all. 
Such writing is free, unaccompanied by errors in spelling, 
there is no elision of syllables and no difficulty in finding the 
words desired. The face is symmetrical on the two sides. 
There Ls no evidence of paralysis of the facial muscles. In 
fact, the cranial nerves, by detailed examination, are intact, 
except in so far as respiration and speech are concerned. 
The right leg is held entirely spastic, the muscles on both 
sides of the joints, that is, flexors and extensors, being equally 
contracted. It is impossible to bend this leg at any joint 
except by the use of very great force. The reflexes every- 
where are lively but are equal on the two sides, and none of 
the abnormal reflexes is present, including in this term 
Babinski, Gordon and Oppenheim. 

Sensation There is very markedly diminished re- 
action to pin prick all over the right side, including face, 
arm, chest, leg and tongue. In some places complete 

4 Hysteria as a Weapon in Marital Conflicts 

analgesia obtains. Reaction to touch is likewise diminished 
and recognition of heat and cold is impaired. 

Speech There is complete loss of the ability to make 
any sound, either voiced or whispered; that is to say, there 
is complete aphonia, there is loss of all voice. The patient 
understands everything, however, and writes her answers to 
questions rapidly and correctly. She can read whatever is 
written, there is no difficulty in the recognition of objects, 
no evidence of any aphasia whatever. 

The diagnosis hysteria can hardly be doubted. 
The history of headaches, fainting spells without marked 
impairment of consciousness, vomiting spells, hemianaesthe- 
sia, hemianalgesia, complete aphonia and an exaggerated 
paralysis, not only of the right leg, but of the ability to thrust 
out the tongue, while at the same time all other cranial 
functions were unimpaired together with the apparent health 
of the individual in every other respect, make up a syndrome 
hardly to pass unrecognized. 

Treatment The patient was entirely inaccessible to 
direct suggestion, for no amount of assurance that her leg 
was all right enabled her to move it. When such sugges- 
tions were made, she shook her head firmly and conclusively, 
and this is true of suggestions concerning speech. This 
point is of importance in the consideration of the mechanism. 
Attempts at hypnotism failed ingloriously. Psycho- 
analysis was deferred for the time, and recourse was had to 
indirect suggestion and re-education. , 

The first function to be restored was the power of 
bending the leg which hitherto had been held entirely spastic. 
The patient was assured that while she had lost the power 
of using the limb, a little relaxation of the muscles of the 
front of the leg would permit it to be bent. Her attention 
was distracted while at the same time a firm, steady pressure 
was put upon the leg above and below the knee joint and 
advantage taken of every change in the tone of the muscles 
involved in keeping the leg extended. Little by little the 
leg T*as bent until finally it was completely flexed, this for 
the iirst time in three weeks. Her attention was called to 
this fact and she was assured that upon the physician's next 
attempt to bend her leg, resistance would be lessened and 

A. Myerson 5 

she would be able to aid somewhat as well. This proved 
true. Then the leg was only partly supported by the 
physician while the patient was assured that with his help 
she would be -able to bend it more freely. From this., she 
passed on to "the ability to move the leg without any assist- 
ance on the part of the writer. After having been given 
exercise in bending the leg for some twenty or thirty times, 
with complete restoration of this ability, she was induced to 
get out of bed, and while standing erect she was suddenly 
released by the physician. She swayed to and fro in a 
rather perilous manner but did not fall. Finally, by 
gradation of tasks set, by a judicious combination of en- 
couragement and command, she was enabled to walk. She 
was then put to bed and assured that upon the physician's 
next visit she would be taught to walk freely. Meanwhile, 
the husband was instructed that he must not allow her to 
stay in bed more than an hour at a time and that she must 
come to the table for her meals. 

On the physician's next visit, two days later, it was 
found that the husband had not been able to induce his 
wife to come to the table, and that he had been unable to 
get her to walk. The physician then commanded her to 
get out of bed, which she did with great effort. She was 
then put back to bed and instructed to get up more freely 
and without such effort, demonstration being a visual one, 
in that she was shown how best to accomplish the task set. 
Finally, at the end of the visit, she was walking quite freely 
and promised in writing, for she had not as yet learned to 
talk, that she would eat at the table. 

The next day instruction was commenced along the 
lines of speech. Upon being asked to thrust out her tongue, 
that organ was protruded only a short distance, and she 
claimed, in writing, to be unable to protrude it further. 
Thereupon it was taken hold of by a towel and alternately 
withdrawn from and replaced into the mouth. After a short 
period of such exercise she was enabled to thrtist the tongue 
in and out. She was then instructed to breathe more freely; 
that is to say, to take short inspirations and to make long 
expirations, this in preparation for speech. She was unable 
to do this, the expiration being short, jerky and interrupted. 

6 Hysteria as a Weapon in Marital Conflicts 

Thereupon the examiner placed his two hands, one on each 
side of her chest, instructed her to inspire, and when she was 
instructed to expire . forced his hands against her ribs in 
order to complete the expiratory act. After about fifteen or 
twenty minutes of this combination of instruction and help 
the patient was able to breathe by herself and freely. She 
was then instructed to make the sound "e" at the end of 
expiration. This she was unable to do at first, but upon 
persistence and passive placing of her mouth in the proper 
position for the sound, she was able to whisper "e." From. 
this she rapidly went on to the other vowel sounds. Then 
the aspirate "h" was added, later the explosives, "p," etc., 
until at the end of about two hours she was enabled to 
whisper anything desired. Her husband was instructed not 
to allow her to use her pencil 3.ny more, and she promised 
faithfully to enter into whispered conversation with him, 
although it was evident that she promised this with re- 

Upon the next visit, two days later, she was still whis- 
pering, and when asked if she could talk aloud, shook her 
head and whispered "No," that she was sure she could not. 
Efforts to have her make the sound " a,' 3 or any of the vowels 
in a voiced manner failed completely. She was then in- 
structed to cough. Although it is evident that a cough is a 
voiced sound, she was able to do this, in a very low and in- 
distinct manner. She was then instructed to add the sound 
"e" at the end of her cough- This she did, but with diffi- 
culty. Finally, after much the same manoeuvering which 
has been indicated in the account of how she was instructed 
to whisper, she talked freely and well. When this was ac- 
complished the husband was instructed to have her dress 
herself and to take her to some place of amusement, and to 
keep her out of doors almost continuously. 

At all times the patient had complained of a pain in her 
side which she claimed wa,s the root of all her trouble. It 
had been "doctored," to use her term, by all the physicians 
in the city and, it was alleged, came after she had been lifting 
a paralyzed old lady in the house across the way. Despite 
all treatment this pain had not disappeared and the various 
diagnoses made strain, liver trouble, nervous ache had 

A. Myerson 7 

not sufficed to console the patient or to relieve her. There 
was no local tenderness, no pain upon movement, but merely 
a steady ache. No physical basis whatever for this trouble 
could be found. Her medicine for the relief of it was dis- 
continued, and so, too, were certain medicines she had been 
obtaining for sleep. 

Upon each visit the husband and wife had been in- 
formed by the physician that he did not believe the trouble 
was organic in its nature, that he believed it depended upon 
some ideas that the patient had, and that, furthermore, it 
was the result of some mental irritation, compared for the 
purpose of fixing the point to a festering sore and which, if 
removed, would permanently eliminate the liability .of such 
seizures. The patient and her husband were informed that 
the physician intended to delve to the bottom of this trouble 
and, by deferring investigation as to its exact nature until 
the symptoms had practically disappeared, a way was 
cleared to obtain their complete confidence, and at the same 
time to overcome any unwillingness to accept a psychical 
explanation for such palpable physical ills. This letter 
point is of importance in dealing with uneducated persons. 
For the most part, they are intensely practical and material- 
istic, and a mere idea does not seem to them to account for 
paralysis although, of course, such skepticism is usually 
accompanied by superstitious credulity along other lines. 
Moreover, by establishing himself as a sort of miracle 
worker (for so the cure was regarded), it would be under- 
stood that curiosity was not the basis for the investigation 
into the domestic life of the patient and her husband, but 
that a desire to do more good inspired it. 

The physician started his investigation with the state- 
ment that he knew from past experience that some conflict 
was going on between husband and wife; that there was some 
source of irritation which caused these outbursts of symp- 
toms on the part of the patient, and that unless they told 
him what was behind the matter his help would be limited 
to the relief of the present symptoms. It was firmly stated 
that any denial of such discord would not be believed, and 
that only a complete confidence would* be helpful. 

The patient, who had been listening to* this statement 

8 Hysteria as a Weapon in Marital Conflicts 

with lowered eyes and nervously intertwining fingers, then 
burst out as follows: There was trouble between them, and 
there always would be until it was settled right, this with 
much emphasis and emotional manifestation. So long as he 
insisted on living where they did, just so long would she 
quarrel with him* She did not like the neighbors, especially 
the woman downstairs, she did not like the room, she did 
not like anything about the place or the neighborhood, hated 
the very sight of it and would never cease attempting to 
move from there. It came out on further questioning that 
the woman downstairs, whom the patient particularly dis- 
liked, was a storm center in that the wife was jealous of her, 
although she adduced no very good reasons for her attitude. 
Moreover, the patient stated that she wished to move to a 
district where she had friends, though other sources of in- 
formation showed that these friends were of a rather un- 
savory character. Her husband was absolutely determined 
not to move from his house. He stated that he would rather 
have her go away and stay away than move from there; that 
the rent was too high in the place where she wanted to move, 
and that the rent was suitable where they were. Moreover, 
for his part, he hated his wife's desired neighborhood and 
would never consent to changing his residence from the 
present place to the other. It came out that her fainting 
and vomiting spells and headaches usually followed bitter 
quarrels, and on other matters these symptoms usually placed 
the victory on her side. On this particular point, however^ 
her husband had remained obdurate. It was shown that the 
present attack of paralysis and aphonia, symptoms of an un- 
usually severe character^ followed an unusually bitter quarrel 
which had lasted for a whole day and into the night of the 

The question arises at this point, "Why did this attack 
take the form of a paralysis ?" At first this seemed un- 
accountable, but later it was found that the old woman for 
whom the patient had been caring had a " stroke" with loss 
of the power to speak,, though no aphonia. The patient had 
gone to work as a sort of nurse for the old woman under 
protest, for she did not wish to do anything outside of her 
own light housekeeping, although the added income was 

A. Myerson 9 

sorely needed since work was slack in her husband's place of 
employment. The pain in her side caused her to quit work 
as nurse, much to her husband's dissatisfaction until she 
convinced him that her pain and disability were marked. 
It was evident that despite the controversies and quarrels 
that prevailed in the household, her husband sincerely loved 
her, for he stayed away from his work during the three weeks 
of her illness to act as her nurse. Moreover, he spent his 
earnings quite freely in consulting various physicians in 
order to cure her. 

It was shown from what both the patient and her hus- 
band said, and from the whole history of their marital life, 
that she had used as a weapon, though not with definite 
conscious purpose, for the gaining of her point in what- 
ever quarrel came up, symptoms that are usually called 
hysterical; that is to say, vomiting, fainting spells and pains 
without definite physical cause. This method usually as- 
sured her victory by playing upon her husband's alarm and 
concern as well as by causing him intense dissatisfaction. 
With the advent of a disagreement which could not be 
settled her way by her usual symptoms, there followed, 
not by any means through her volition or conscious purpose^ 
more severe symptoms; namely, spastic paralysis and aphonia, 
which, in a general way, were suggested by her patient. 
There seems to have been, and there undoubtedly w r as, a 
sexual element entering into this last quarrel; namely, that 
she was jealous of the woman who lived downstairs, though 
without any proof of her husband's infidelity. 

Both patient and her husband finally agreed to the 
physician's statement that the symptoms were directly 
referable to the quarrels, although both claimed that it had 
never occurred to them before, a fact made evident by their 
questions and objections. No psychoanalysis was possible 
in this case, for the man and woman belong to that class of 
people who feel that they are cured when their symptoms 
are relieved. It may be argued, without any possibility of 
contradiction, that a psychoanalysis would have revealed a 
deeper reaching mechanism and that a closer relationship 
and connection between the paralysis and other symptoms 
with the past sexual experiences of the patient could have 

10 Hysteria as a Weapon in Marital Conflicts 

been established. This last claim may be doubted, how- 
ever, for there is always a gap between the alleged "con- 
version" of mental states into physical symptoms, and this 
gap can in no case be bridged over even by Freud's own 
accounts. The conversion always remains as a mere state- 
ment and is a logical connection between the appearance of 
physical symptoms and the so-called conflicts; in other 
words, it is an explanation and not a fact. Compared with 
the complex Freudian mechanism, "with its repressions, com- 
pressions, censors, dreams, etc., the conception of hysterical 
symptoms as a marital weapon as comparable with the tears 
of more normal women seems very simple and probably too 
simple. In fact, it does not explain the hysteria, it merely 
gives a use for its symptoms, and the writer is driven back 
to the statement that the neuropathic person is characterized 
by his or her bizarre and prolonged emotional reactions, 
which, in turn, brings us back to a defect ab origine. And 
the Freudians, starting out to prove that the experiences of 
the individual alone cause hysteria, by pushing back the time 
of those experiences to infancy (and lately to foetal life), 
have proved the contrary, that is, the inborn nature of the 



Professor of Education^ Emory and Henry College ', 


A FEW nights ago I experienced a very interesting 
nightmare, and, immediately on awakening, I got 
up and recorded it, analyzing it as fully as I was 
able. This is the first nightmare I have had for 
several years, and I never was especially addicted to 
them. Two years ago I made an introductory study 
of dreams, 1 and at that time dreamed profusely, but 
recently I have been dreaming very rarely, and when 
I do dream the experiences are not at all vivid. I use 
the term " nightmare " in a somewhat popular sense 
to mean a painful or frightful dream accompanied by physi- 
cal disturbances, such as heart flutter and disturbances of 
breathing, and followed on awakening by a certain amount 
of the painful emotion which was a part of the dream. 
Accepting this definition, the experience which I have to 
relate was a typical nightmare. A few words of explana- 
tion are necessary to give the proper setting for the experi- 
ence. At present I am teaching in the summer school at 
this place and my wife is visiting her folks; during her 
absence, in order to keep from getting too lonesome, I in- 
vited one of the young men in the summer school to come 
and room with me and keep me company. With this as 
an explanation, I shall copy the original account of the 
dream as nearly as possible, making a few corrections of 
the barbarous language I used in the half-asleep state. 

On the night of August 9, 1914, I went to bed at 11.40 
o'clock and was soon asleep. About 3*40 in the morning, 
the young man, F. K. S-, roused me and I awoke weak, 
scared, and with a fluttering heart; he said I had been 
making a distressing sort of noise, but he could not distin- 
guish any words. Immediately, I judged that the dream 
was caused by my lying on my back, and in an uncomfort- 

1 At Clark University, 1912-1913. 


12 The Analysis of a Nightmare 

able position. As a rule I do not sleep on my back, but for 
some reason I had gone to sleep that way this time. Also, 
it had been raining when I went to bed, and I had put the 
windows down, and the ventilation was bad. 

The dream, as nearly as it was remembered, was as 
follows: I was with somebody in a buggy and we drove 
down a hill, across a little stream, and up the other hill, 
where we arrived at our destination. I seemed to find 
trouble in getting a place to hitch, and I had to take the 
horse out of the buggy and I think take the harness off. 
I distinctly remember that in the dream this was a hardship 
to me, as it would have been in waking life, for I am not a 
good hand with horses, and do not like to work with them. 
All this is very hazy to me, and I do not know with whom 
I was driving, but think it was a lady, possibly my wife. 
There were other people at this place and other horses and 
buggies. (Could it be called a case of reversion to child- 
hood, in that there were only horses and buggies and no 
automobiles?) There is a break in the dream here, and we 
were within some kind of a building where there was a 
crowd of people. As it seems now, we were around some 
kind of a rotunda, but this is very vague. The important 
part seems to be that there were two people, a man and a 
woman, who were talking very stealthily and earnestly to 
each other, and they soon drew me into the conversation. 
It runs in my head now that the man was my father (who 
has been dead for some years), though I am not sure about 
this, while there is no recollection of who the woman was* 
Now it appeared that there was some woman in the crowd 
who had some peculiar evil influence over every one and 
whom everybody feared. This man and woman were plan- 
ning to slip off from this wicked woman and meet me and 
the one with me on the road, and in some way, which is not 
now clear, we were to circumvent this bad woman and 
break her power. The man explained and explained to me 
that we were to meet at certain springs which were at the 
side of the road, but it seemed that I could not get it into 
my head where they were, and I was afraid I would not 
stop at the right place. At last I thought I knew where he 
meant, and told him that I would stop there and wait until 

Raymond Bellamy 1 3 

he came up, but then I happened to think that he might 
be ahead of me anyhow, and could stop and wait for me; 
then I was sure he would be ahead, for I remembered that 
I had to harness and hitch up the horse and his was all 
ready. And now we seemed to be getting our horses, and 
I remarked to him that I was not a bit good hand at work- 
ing with horses, and he expressed his sympathy that I had 
this work to do. 

Here was a second break in the dream, and I was 
standing in a hallway, looking through a window into a 
room. In this room sat my wife and the evil woman whom 
everybody feared. She had learned our play (I was con- 
scious of this in the dream), and was determined to have 
her revenge, and prevent us carrying out our plan. She 
had hypnotized my wife, and had her scared so that she 
was in great mental agony. I heard her saying, "Now you 
are a big black cat," or something much like this, at any 
rate making her think she was a cat and at the same time 
leaving her partly conscious of who she was. This woman 
looked exactly like a woman who lives in the neighborhood 
where my wife is now visiting and of whom she has always 
been somewhat afraid because of her sharp tongue and un- 
pleasant ways. Immediately, I was filled with a great fear 
for my wife and with a raging anger against the woman. 
I broke out into calling her all kinds of names, especially 
saying, "You devil, you devil," and trying to get through 
the window to her. I tore out the screen, but had a great 
deal of difficulty in doing so. When I had finally succeeded 
in tearing the screen out, I threw it at her head, but she 
did not dodge, but sat boldly upright and seemed to defy 
me. Then I tried to jump through the window to get to 
her, but was so weak that I could not do so; this seems 
strange since the window was not more than three feet from 
the floor. I was making unsuccessful attempts to get 
through, and was railing at the woman when S. awoke me. 
I awoke weak, and for some time continued to feel fright- 
ened, though not enough so to keep me from talking and 
writing out the dream. I got up and put up the windows 
(since the rain had stopped), and about this time a very 
fair explanation of parts of the dream came to me. I imme- 

14 The Analysis of a Nightmare 

diately told it to S., in order to keep from forgetting it, and 
then decided to write it down, which I proceeded to do. 

Parts of the dream seem to analyze very nicely, but there 
are parts which seem to resist analysis; I did not try to 
force the analysis but gave only the part which came spon- 
taneously. In the first part of the dream I was driving in 
a buggy, I crossed a creek and had trouble with unharnessing 
ahorse. Several times recently, I have mentioned the fact 
that I never liked to work with horses, even when on the 
farm at home. I do not remember of having mentioned 
this fact on the day of the dream, but Mr. C. had stopped 
in to call on me that evening and had mentioned that he 
drove in in a buggy. I had not seen the buggy and had 
wondered what he did with it, and had not remembered 
to ask him. He had also told me that he was going to a 
place called Yellow Springs; I knew about where Yellow 
Springs are, but could not quite place them and had tried to 
figure out what direction he would go. This seemed to 
come out very clearly in the dream, when I was trying to 
find out where these unknown springs by the side of the 
road were. I had related during the evening how I recently 
fell into a creek with my clothes on and this probably ac- 
counted for the creek over which I drove in the dream. In 
the dim second part of the dream, the rotunda seems to 
have resembled the chapel of the new college building 
which is being builded, and about which I was talking that 

The last part of the dream seems to have been the im- 
portant part, and in it several of the Freudian mechanisms 
show up very plainly. Just before going to bed, I had read 
an article about Vera Cheberiak, the Russian murderess of 
the Mendel Beilis case, and how she is now engaged in 
suing different people for slander. The article had de- 
scribed her as coolly and impudently sitting up in court 
and seeming to realize her power over her enemies, and it 
had also made a point of the great fear in which she is held. 
I had read another article about the city of Salem, which 
has recently burned, and I had remembered that it 
was the "witch" town of colonial days where people were 
supposed to be turned into black cats. I had read still 

Raymond Bellamy 15 

another article, descriptive of country life, which described 
how a man had climbed a tree after a cat which was eating 
young robins. I had just a day or two before received a 
letter from my wife, which .contained the news that she 
was going to visit. this woman whom she fears, but whom 
she must visit because of their social relation. As already 
mentioned, the woman in the dream looked just like this 
one, and it will readily be recognized that the dream woman 
was a condensation of Vera Cheberiak, a Salem "witch," 
and the woman whom my wife fears. The fact that she 
was hypnotized into thinking she was a cat would naturally 
accompany the Salem witch, and the cat in the apple tree, 
concerning which I had read, might also have entered the 
dream. Aside from these, there is another element which 
may have been instrumental in causing my wife to be pun- 
ished by thinking she was a cat. I once saw a woman who 
was suffering from melancholia who thought she was a cat, 
and her mental suffering seemed to me to be about the 
keenest of any that I have ever observed; this possibly 
caused the dream-making factor to represent her as think- 
ing she was a cat. The hall, window and screen are also 
easy of explanation. That evening I had examined a win- 
dow which opens from our bedroom into a hall, and had 
wonde'red whether we would continue to keep it curtained 
this year or take the curtains away. When I put down the 
windows to keep out the driving rain, I had had trouble 
with a screen much as I did in the dream. 

The heart of the dream seems to be in this last scene. 
That morning (it was Sunday) I had very unwillingly, and 
from a sense of duty, gone to a tiresome and long-drawn- 
out church service. I had become so fatigued during the 
service, and so disagreed with some of the things the preacher 
said, that I was conscious of a mild desire to swear and 
throw something. I had humorously mentioned this fact 
after the service, but there was quite an element of truth 
in the jest. The dream gave me the chance of my life to 
fulfil this desire, and I seized the opportunity by breaking- 
into a stream of profanity (not very successful profanity, I 
fear, as I never use it when awake and therefore was not in 
good practice) arid throwing the screen at the woman. But 

16 The Analysis of a Nightmare 

was there not a deeper meaning than this in the dream? 
I think so decidedly; it seems that it would be a lot of 
trouble to construct such a tremendous nightmare just to 
give me an opportunity to swear and throw something, 
because a preacher had been somewhat tiresome. There 
was evidently a deeper and more subtle wish which was 
also fulfilled. That evening I had walked up the railroad 
track with a crowd of young people and where the paths 
crossed we had all split up and gone different directions. 
Two young ladies had gone back to their boarding places 
across the campus, and I had suggested to the young fellow 
with me that we go along with them. However, he ob- 
jected, and we walked back down the railroad track. Now, 
it had occurred to me that he probably thought I was not 
within my bounds as a married man when I wanted to 
walk back with these young ladies; something of the same 
idea had come to me that day when some one had said in 
a conversation, "Professor B. is the most satisfied man on 
the campus whose wife is away." I had wondered if they 
thought I did not care for my wife and vaguely wished I 
had some way of showing my love for her, and, more than 
that, these suggestions had very naturally made me won- 
der if I really care for her as much as I should. I could not 
have asked for a better opportunity to serve and show my 
love for my wife than the dream gave me, and at the same 
time it assured me of my affection for her. There is still 
another element of repression in this and that is that I 
have for some time been wanting to forcibly express my- 
self against the unpleasant ways of this lady whom my wife 
so fears. In the dream, I very freely and fully followed 
this desire. 

This far I can go in the analysis and feel sure of my 
ground. It will be noticed that I have not resorted to sym- 
bolism, and have made very little technical use even of the 
Freudian mechanisms. I could very easily plunge into sym- 
bolism and more elaborate analysis, but should I do so I 
fear I would be in the same condition as a brrght young 
scholar who made an elaborate study of Freudian theories. 
He expressed himself by saying that it was a "chaotic in- 
ferno/' This analysis will seem very unfinished to many 

Raymond Bellamy 17 

of the well-trained readers of the JOURNAL, and so, in a 
way, it does to me, but it may be interesting as the work 
of a layman rather than a trained physician. I have not 
used the word "sexual" in this paper, but the reader can 
judge for himse]f if the impulses would come under this 
heading, either in the more narrow use of the term or in 
the broader meaning which Freud has given it. For my- 
self, I see no possible objection in employing the word 
"sexual" in this connection. 

The uncertain parts of the dream are as interesting in 
a way as the others. Why did I not know with whom I 
was riding, and why were the persons with whom I talked 
more certain in their identity? Here, of course, is the place 
where it would be easy to find a repression if such existed^ 
and I believe if it did not exist. Whether there is 
such a repression there or not I do not know, but I see no 
necessity for considering that there is one there just be- 
cause there is a dim place in the dream. In the study which 
I made of dreams a year or so ago, I became convinced that 
there is a principle of dream-making which has not been 
noticed- I will throw out a suggestion here in the hope 
that some one will study it further, but will give no elab- 
orate discussion in this paper. Briefly, it is that only those 
things appear in a dream which are necessary to express 
the meaning of the dream. A few illustrations may make 
this clear. Every one has noticed the rarity with which 
colors and sunshine appear in dreams; I have found, how- 
ever, that colors and sunshine always appear if there is any 
necessity for their doing so. Some one dreams of a melon 
and looks to see if it is ripe; he sees the red color; he dreams 
of a stream which he thinks is a sewer and smells it to see 
if it gives off an odor and finds that it does; he dreams of 
pulling his fishing line to see if there is a fish on it and senses 
the pull of the fish; I have examples in abundance which 
go to indicate that taste, smell, tactual, kinsesthetic, color 
sensation or any other ,kind will appear in a dream when 
they are called for to complete the meaning of the dream, 
but they are not common because they are very rarely 
needed. Even in waking life we rarely think in these terms. 
If this little principle prove true, it would be easy to under- 

18 The Analysis of a Nightmare 

stand why certain parts of a dream are dim without going 
to the doubtful process of positing a repression. The per- 
sons in the dream were not recognized -simply because there 
was no need for them to be; the dream expressed the perti- 
nent meaning just as well without them as with them. 
They were observed just as many of us would observe the 
occupants of a street car in waking life; we could possibly 
not describe, even partly, any one of the occupants of the 
car which we used on our way to the office or home. 

Before leaving this nightmare, I want to call attention 
again to the somatic elements. I was lying on my back 
and in a cramped position, the air was closer than usual, 
and my circulation was naturally deranged. When I awoke 
I was strongly inclined to give the physical elements a large 
amount of the responsibility for the dream, and I have not 
found occasion to change my mind in this matter* I think 
that even the inability to jump through the window in the 
dream was caused by the weak and exhausted state of my 
body, due to the poor circulation and cramped position. 





THOSE of us who have devoted a certain amount of 
our time and energy to the study of dreams 
have early come to realize the value of a dream 
as a starting-point in the analysis of certain 
mental states, particularly those of an abnormal character. 
Frequently, in the hopeless tangle of symptoms, com- 
plaints and disconnected facts in the history as originally 
obtained, especially in old-standing cases, one does not 
really know just where to begin, what to start with in the 
first efforts to struggle with the problem of the ultimate 
genesis and evolution of the condition which is presented to 
him at the particular moment. Of course, by a careful re- 
view of the patient's past life history, gone over by persistent 
questioning and cross-examination, one can begin with the 
family history and step by step trace the history of the 
patient from earliest childhood or infancy through the vari- 
ous stages and phases of activity and development up to 
the very moment of examination. This may at times 
appear quite dull, quite uninteresting and entirely unneces- 
sary to certain patients. For this reason and also for many 
other reasons, which I shall not enumerate at this point, 
it is at times well to resort to dream analysis. And in 
analyzing dreams it is well to remember a fact, with which 
I believe all psychoanalysts will agree, namely, that by a 
most thorough and far-reaching analysis of a single dream, 
we can, by following out to the ultimate ends the various 
clues which are given us and the various by-paths which 
offer themselves to us in the course of the analysis we 
can, I repeat, should we be so inclined, root up the entire life 
history of the dreamer. This may not be necessary in all 
cases. But, at any rate, if we desired so to do for scientific 
purposes, we could arrive at such results. In such an 
analysis we would, of course, first take up, individually, 


20 Analysis of a Single Dream 

every portion and every element of every portion of the 
dream, and by means of each such lesser or greater element 
of the dream, we could arrive at a mass of material, a wealth 
of information concerning the past experiential, emotional, 
mental and moral life of the individual whose dream we were 
at the moment analyzing. In fact, one could ferret out the 
full life history in great detail, thus obtaining a complete 
autobiography leading far down into the depths of the 
dreamer's mental life and into the inner world of his own. 
With the material so obtained one could truly reconstruct 
the complete life history, piecemeal, until the wonderful 
and inspiring structure of the mental world of the dreamer 
would be reared, reaching far back to early childhood and 
perhaps even to infancy, extending so far forward as to give 
us a prophecy, based on the dreamer's dynamic trends and 
emotional trends and leanings, of the probable future, 
stretching forth its tentacles in all directions, and, uncover- 
ing the psychic underworld in its every part, holding up 
before our eyes the naked mind, in its length, its breadth 
and its thickness. 

I am not referring here particularly to the 'employment 
of the method of hypnosis, especially as practised by Prince, 
or to Freud's so-called free association (which is frequently 
really forced association) or Jung's word association methods. 
I am speaking only of analysis of the dream by ordinary 
conversation and introspection, in the normal waking state. 
Of course, were the latter method supplemented by these 
other methods, the results would be so much the more com- 
plete and far-reaching. I may mention, specifically, that 
the employment of Freud's free association method would 
be helpful here in gathering information because, when em- 
ploying this method, one practically forces the one being 
analyzed to think by analogy and by comparison, insisting 
that he tell you what a certain word or name or scene or 
experience or what not reminds him of, what it resembles, 
what he can compare it to, no matter how remote its con- 
nection, no matter how unrelated, how far-fetched or how 
silly the association may appear in his own eyes in other 
words, we demand that he co-operate by suspending critical 
selection and judgment. Although, as I say, Freud's, 

Meyer Solomon 21 

Jung's, Prince's and other methods may be advantageously 
employed, still, it seems to me, although I cannot yet state 
this in final or positive terms, that, at least in most cases, 
such an unravelment and resurrection of the past life history 
can be obtained by an analysis of the dream conducted in 
the ordinary, waking state, and the usual conversational 
mode of history-taking and daily oral intercourse. 

It needs no repetition or elaboration to convince psycho- 
analysts (I use the term "psychoanalyst 55 in the broad, 
unrestricted sense of the word, including the supporters of 
all possible schools or standpoints or methods in psycho- 
analysis or mental analysis, and not limiting it to Freud's 
psychoanalysis) of the essential and fundamental truth of 
this statement. I shall, therefore, not unnecessarily lengthen 
this paper by endeavoring to bring forth complete evidence 
of the truth of this assertion. 

As a matter of fact, this conclusion or generalization 
applies not alone to dreams but to any single element in the 
objective or subjective world which may be seized upon as 
the initial stimulus and from which, as a starting-point, 
association of ideas, in ordinary conversation or aided by 
any of the more or less experimental or artificial but 
valuable methods heretofore mentioned, may be begun and 
continued ad libitum or even ad infinitum, under the tactful 
guidance and judgment of the investigator. For example, 
if I may be permitted to tread upon the dangerous path of 
near-sensationalism or extremism, I may mention that were 
I to take even so common, so widely used, and so relatively 
insignificant a word as the definite article "the" as the 
initial stimulus, and have one of my fellowmen or fellow- 
women (whose full co-operation, it is assumed, I have 
previously obtained) give me one or more free or random 
word associations, and thereafter, with these newly acquired 
elements, continued to forge my way into the thickly wooded 
and unexplored recesses of the unknown and mysterious 
forest of the mind, I doubt not but that I should achieve 
the same results as if I had started upon my journey with a 
dream. If this be true, and I firmly believe that it is, in 
the case of that universally used and apparently inconse- 
quential word "the," to which the normal person can be 

22 Analysis of a Single Dream 

expected to have such a large number of associations, o 
varying degrees of intimacy or remoteness, how much true 
is it when we have such a definite mental fact or menta 
state as a dream as the starting-point of our hunting ex 
pedition ? 

The dream gives us something tangible to start with 
something near at home to the dreamer or patient, something 
interesting and amusing to him, something baffling and sc 
frequently unintelligible to him, and, as a consequence, a 
more conscientious, earnest and wholehearted co-operation 
can be obtained from the person whose mental life is being 
investigated. Here is something vivid to him, something 
of personal interest to him. And so we can look to him to 
lend us his aid in better spirit and in fuller measure than 
might otherwise be obtainable. 

I have been referring in my previous remarks, for the 
most part, to unravelment of the normal individual's life 
history. But my remarks are equally applicable to a 
mentally disturbed individual's life history and to the 
genesis of abnormal psychic states, particularly those to be 
met with in the neuroses and psychoneuroses. 

So true is the generalization, indeed the truism or dic- 
tum here laid down, that, in only the psychoanalyst knows 
how many instances, by the analysis of a single, even the 
very first dream, one can arrive at the rock-bottom depth of 
the trouble at hand yes, at the very genesis of the condi- 
tion. It is not my intention in this paper to report such 
cases in full detail, since the presentation of even a single 
such case would be too lengthy for publication in an ordinary 
medical or other journal, and in many instances might well 
go to make a good-sized book, a real autobiography of more 
or less interest, if not to the average reader, at least to the 
psychoanalyst and to the person who has undergone the 
psychoanalysis. Without attempting to present an elabor- 
ate history or complete analysis, but rather merely to call 
attention to the truth of the general problem which is being 
discussed in this paper, I shall, however, mention a few 
definite illustrations of this sort. 

A man of sixty was brought to my dispensary clinic by 
his wife (I say "brought" and not "accompanied" by his 

Meyer Solomon 23 

wife, advisedly). She accompanied him into my examining 
room. He had an almost complete aphonia, spoke hoarsely 
and in a whisper and presented all the signs of abductor 
laryngeal paralysis; added to which there was a partial 
hemiplegia of the right side involving the upper and lower 
extremities, but not the face or any of the cranial nerves 
other than that supplying the right laryngeal abductor. 
I shall not give any other points in the history except that 
this paralysis was of four months' duration, there was some 
resistance ,to movements at the elbow and knee, but Babinski 
and other indications of a central organic lesion were absent. 
The results of the rest of the physical examination need not 
be mentioned except that the patient presented evidences of 
arteriosclerosis. The patient was of dull mentality, meek, 
humble and subservient; he was much below par mentally 
(I did not put him through any special intelligence tests), 
had little .information to offer, constantly resorted to "I 
don't know" as a reply, and could co-operate but little, I 
did, however, obtain the important bit of information that 
seventeen years ago he had had an almost complete aphonia 
of several weeks 3 duration and that one day, while on board 
ship, he became seasick, vomited, became frightened, went 
to his room, and suddenly his voice returned to him. So 
sudden was the transformation that many of his fellow- 
passengers insisted that he had been deceiving them and had 
purposely simulated the condition he had previously pre- 
s ented. The case was one of hysteria, the patient presenting 
at the time of my examination signs of abductor laryngeal 
paralysis (laryngological examination disclosed a right- 
sided abductor palsy) and right-sided partial hemiplegia. 

For the next two visits the wife accompanied, or rather, 
brought the patient to the clinic and I could get but little 
information and consequently progressed but little. I 
asked him, in her presence, to come alone the next time 
which he did. The description of the onset of the attack, 
which was furnished me on his prevous visits, proved the 
hysterical nature of the condition: he had suddenly been 
attacked by nausea and vomitng, fell to the floor, lay there, 
more or less unconscious (as he described it) for five or ten 
or more minutes, was assisted to his feet, went to his bed 

24 Analysis of a Single Dream 

with practically no assistance, a few hours later found 
that he could speak little more than above a whisper, and in 
another few hours or more his right side became weak and 
failed him. He had insisted that the onset came on suddenly. 
He had denied any quarrels or trouble at home. Nothing 
could be obtained from him as to his thoughts just prior 
to the attack or as to any special emotional shocks. 

On his fourth visit I asked him to tell me any dream he 
had had recently and which had made an impression upon 
him. He could give me no aid. Nothing came to mind. 
I asked, him if he had dreamed the night before, and he told 
me he had had a dream the afternoon of the preceding day, 
during an afternoon nap. Here is the dream: He found 
himself struggling with a tremendous snake, the upper part 
of which was in human form, the features being very hazy 
and not at all recalled. The snake was vigorously en- 
deavoring to enwrap itself about him and to strangle him, 
and he was desperately and fiercely struggling to defend him- 
self against it and to free himself from it and yet he could 
not fight it off. In desperation and in fear he cried aloud 
for help. This was the end of the dream, for, at this point, 
members of his family came rushing toward him to inquire 
what was wrong with him, and due partly to shock and his 
own activity in the dream, and partly perhaps to the noise 
of the footsteps and of the conversation of those who came 
running toward him to inquire into the cause of his dis- 
tressful cries, he awoke. 

The thoughts and reveries just preceding the dream and 
the thoughts and experiences during the morning preceding 
the dream, although the true inciters of the dream, and 
although concerned with the central figure (his wife) in this 
little drama, need not be detailed since the dream has a 
wider and more deeply arising significance. 

I could not learn definitely from him whether the series of 
associated thoughts turned first from his wife to his troubles 
with her, to her attitude toward him, and then to her re- 
semblance in this respect (her nagging, pestering persistence 
and actual persecution of him) to a snake which is en- 
deavoring to enwrap itself about him, to strangle him, to 
withdraw from him his very life's blood, etc. This may 

Meyer Solomon 25 

or may not have been the line of associations just preceding 
the dream. 

He had no idea as to what the dream meant. Using 
free association, in ordinary face-to-face conversation, I 
asked him what "snake" reminded him of. The association 
came in a moment. He smiled, became embarrassed, said 
it was foolish of him to tell me this, but it reminded him of 
his wife. He had always looked upon his wife as a snake in 
human form. He had frequently called her "snake" be- 
cause of her conduct toward him. She had wound herself 
about his life in snake-like fashion. 

And then came the story of their troubles. This was 
his second wife* She was fifteen years his junior. He was 
meek, feeble, of weak will-power, without initiative. She 
was domineering. Although his wife never told him so 
openly and in so many words, he felt convinced that the 
trouble had begun more or less because his wife's sexual 
libido was not satisfied in her sexual relations with him. 
He admits that she is a passionate woman, her sexual libido 
was of such strength that he, much older than she, and not 
too strong physically, could but little gratify her. The first 
complaints and the sole trouble which appeared on the sur- 
face were financial he barely made a living and she com- 
plained thereat continually, bitterly and tyrannically. It 
seems that her complaint in this direction was justified. 
It is difficult to determine just what role her lack of sexual 
.gratification played whether it only acted as stirring up 
the embers of dissatisfaction (with his weekly earnings) 
which already existed, or whether it was the basic factor, 
led to her dissatisfaction with her matrimonial choice, and 
caused her to seek some more or less valid cause for com- 
plaint, in that way permitting her, more or less consciously, 
to transfer her dissatisfaction and discontent from the lack of 
sexual gratification to the hard pressed financial condition 
(which perhaps she might, for that matter, have been willing 
to endure, did she but obtain the full gratification of her 
sexual craving). At any rate, both of these factors played 
their role in causing domestic disagreement; one factor 
being openly acknowledged as the cause by his wife, the 
other factor never mentioned by her, but believed by him 

26 Analysis of a Single Dream 

to be an important accessory, if not the main, fundamental 
and primary source of the trouble. His wife, using his poor 
earning capacity as a weapon, and with the demand for 
"more money" as her battle-cry, carried on a campaign of 
complaint, grumbling, nagging, fault-finding, insult and 
abuse, but little short of persecution, making conditions 
wretched and miserable at home. Things at length became 
quite unbearable to him so much so that, feeble in will- 
power and lacking in initiative as he was and is, he was 
compelled to leave home and live with his aunt, since his 
wife had practically deserted him. Although she had sold 
out the furniture and the rest of the furnishings of the 
home, and had pocketed the money thus received, she re- 
peatedly called at his aunt's home for no other purpose than 
to force him to pay her sums of money for her weekly main- 
tenance. On each such visit she would act the tyrant, 
would storm and rage furiously, would subject him to 
stinging rebukes and deliver biting tongue-lashings, causing 
him in consequence to be much upset and nervous the rest 
of the day. The very morning on which he had had the 
attack, which was followed by his present trouble (partial 
aphonia and partial hemiplegia) his wife had paid him one 
of these unusually stormy and noisy, and, to say the least, 
unwelcome visits. She had carried the attack to such a 
point that our patient became so emotionally upset (he is a 
harmless, emotional, kindly, unassuming and indifferent 
sort of old fellow) that he suddenly was attacked with 
nausea and vomiting, and, frightened, fell to the floor, with 
the consequences above detailed. I need not go further into 
the history and analysis of this case, but the story thus far 
elicited is more than sufficient to show that here we have a 
specific instance in which, by the analysis of a single dream,, 
we have arrived at the genesis of an hysterical paralytic 
syndrome of four months' duration. The analysis took but 
a few minutes. It may be mentioned, in parentheses, that 
a full knowledge of the cause of the condition did not lead 
to a disappearance of the palsy. In other words, as we all 
know, knowledge per se does not lead to action or to the 
assertion or development of the will-power. I may say, also, 
that the events here related were not suppressed or repressed,. 

Meyer Solomon 27 

for, as soon as the question of his wife was taken up, the 
patient admitted that it was she who was the real cause of 
his present conditions, and he thereupon detailed the story 
above related. He assured me that he had always been fully 
aware that it was she who had brought about his present 
condition, although, of course, he did not know whether he 
had had an hysterical, apoplectic or other sort of attack. 
In fact he believed his condition was permanent and in- 
curable especially since he had been treated at various 
neurological clinics for many weeks past without the slightest 
improvement or progress. 

Were we to follow up this history we could unearth the 
full life history of this patient, including the genesis of -his 
early attack of aphonia. But I deem this unnecessary and 
inadvisable in this paper, as mentioned previously. 

Here, then, we have a definite case in which by the 
analysis of a single and incidentally the first dream we 
have arrived at the genesis of the psychoneurotic disorder. 

From this same standpoint I have studied another case, 
a married woman of twenty-nine, with marked neurasthenic 
and hysterical symptoms (including astasia-abasia, anes- 
thesias, palpitation of the heart, throbbing sensations in the 
stomach and a great many other symptoms). This case I 
studied for upwards of four months, with almost daily visits 
.to the hospital where she was being cared for. I made 
quite an intensive study of her dream life and of her past 
life history, and I find that had I taken the very first dream 
which I obtained from her and conducted a thorough 
analysis with this dream as my first mile-post, I would have 
arrived at a full genesis of the condition, which was of ten 
years' duration. In this case, also, I must repeat, there was 
no indication of repression, the patient having always 
understood very well the origin and cause of her condition. 
Here, too, we find that the knowledge alone did not lead to 
her recovery. This case I shall report in detail at a later 

In this connection, I cannot keep from reciting the 
dream of a young girl of twelve which I had the good fortune 
to study. She came to me complaining about her throat. 
There was something dry, "a sticking" in her throat* She 

28 Analysis of a Single Dream 

did not know what It was. Would I look at her throat? 
I found nothing abnormal, and was about to dismiss her 
when I observed that her hands were bluish. I felt them. 
They were cold. I thought at once of probable heart disease. 
I was soon informed that she had heart disease. She had 
been told so by other doctors. This proved to be the case, 
as I learned on examining her. 

Being keenly interested in this subject of dreams, I 
wondered whether, if she were subject to periods of cardiac 
decompensation of varying degree, she did not have dreams 
of a terrifying nature (about burglars, robbery and the like), 
because of embarrassment of breathing during sleep, re- 
sulting from her cardiac insufficiency and consequent cir- 
culatory and respiratory disturbance. I asked her whether 
she had been dreatning much of late. She told me she had 
had a dream the preceding night. What was it? I inquired. 

She had dreamed that she had died. Her mother had put 
her in a coffin, carried her to the cemetery and then pro- 
ceeded to bury her. Her mother had first forced something 
into her mouth (it seemed to be a whitish powder), and then 
lowered her into the grave and filled the grave with dirt. 
That is all that she could remember. 

I shall not enter into a complete analysis or interpre- 
tation of this dream. There is no doubt, however, to every 
psychoanalyst who has devoted his attention to dreams, 
that the analysis of such a dream should prove most in- 
teresting. It is also apparent that by taking up the various 
elements of the dream and following them untiringly along 
the various trails and ramifications which lead on in various 
directions, one could unmask the entire life history of this 
twelve-year-old girl. 

I wish, however, to direct the reader's attention to only 
one aspect of this dream the death of the dreamer. She 
denied that she feared death or that she thought of death 
because of her heart disease or from any other cause. I 
next inquired: "Do you wish or have you ever wished you 
were dead?" The reaction of the girl was immediate and 
intense. She stood frightened, embarrassed; her eyelids 
twitched convulsively in rapid succession, her face gradually 
assumed a suppressed crying expression, tears came to her 

Meyer Solomon 29 

eyes, they soon flowed freely and rolled down her cheeks; 
she sobbed, and, through her tears, she uttered, almost 
inarticulately, the one word, "Yes," A convulsive, in- 
spiratory grunt, a bashful, receding, turning away of the 
head -and body, a raising of the hands to cover her face and 
hide her tears, and hasty, running steps to get away, while 
murmuring audibly "Let me go away," followed rapidly 
one upon the other. I gently seized her hand, calmed and 
reassured her. And, through sobs and tears, in almost in- 
audible tones, in starts and spurts, and reluctantly replying 
to questions which were forced upon her, producing replies 
which were literally drawn from her against her will, she 
told me this little story: A little boy cousin of hers, three 
years her junior, had begun school two years or so later 
than she, and yet, in spite of this handicap, this little relative 
had outstripped her in school, he being now in a higher grade 
than she herself was. She would not be so much concerned 
or worried about this not-to-be-proud-of performance, had 
not the boy's mother that week visited her home and there, 
in the presence of other people, talked considerably about 
her boy's progress in school, his rapid advance as compared 
with that of our little dreamer, her relative stupidity and 
backwardness. And so this boy's mother had continued 
for some time in the same strain. This caused our little girl 
to feel much embarrassed in fact, ashamed and mortified. 
She had felt that way for several days past, it had made her 
cry, had made her feel miserable and unhappy; so much so 
that she had wished she were dead. I shall not continue 
this analysis further. But it is plainly seen that here too, 
by a single dream, we have come upon life-experiences, 
viewpoints and mental material which affords us efficient 
and sufficient weapons to boldly attack the fortress of her 
full life history, her mental qualities, her trends, her psychic 
depth, her mental makeup in its entirety, in its every 

It is interesting to note that on the morning following 
the experience which I had with this child, she came to see 
me a second time, and, on my examining her throat, it 
presented the typical picture of bilateral tonsillitis, the final 
result of the initial sticking sensation in her throat, which she 

30 Analysis of a Single Dream 

had experienced the day before. After taking a culture from 
her throat as a matter of routine to exclude a possible diph- 
theria, the patient, greatly disturbed because of her newly- 
discovered trouble, burst forth into bitter tears, and, still 
sobbing, rushed abruptly from the room. 

A week later, when I saw her again, she had regained 
her emotional equilibrium and we reviewed her dream and 
its analysis without any special signs of emotional disturb- 

Very interesting, also, was my experience about a week 
following this when, casually reciting this little girl's dream, 
its significance and her conduct, to an old lady whom I know 
very well, I found that she too was presenting all the signs 
of emotional upset, for, as I proceeded with my recital, tears 
gradually came to her eyes, her face assumed a suppressed 
crying expression, she tried to smile through her tears, and 
finally, unable to control her emotions, she broke out into 
a free and unrestrained weeping spell, following which I 
learned from her that the recital of this girl's condition, her 
dream and its meaning, recalled to her mind her darling 
daughter, a noble girl of sixteen years of age, who had died 
some fifteen years ago, after a long period of incapacitation 
and a miserable existence brought on by tonsillitis, chorea, 
rheumatism and, finally, heart disease, with all the extreme 
signs and symptoms of broken cardiac and renal compensa- 
tion. Here, then, I had touched another complex, which, 
if followed up, would lead me into the innermost depths and 
recesses of this old lady's soul-life, into the holiest of holies 
of her mental life* 

The writer will be pardoned for not here giving fuller 
histories, or for not carrying out the analyses to their ulti- 
mate goals, or for not giving the interpretations of the two 
dreams presented. That was not the primary object of this 
communication . 

I wish, in conclusion, to repeat that through the con- 
scientious and most far-reaching analysis of a v single dream, 
or, in fact, of a single element of a dream or a single element 
or stimulus in the objective or subjective world, one may, 
at least not infrequently, unearth the full life history of 
normal or abnormal individuals, and the genesis and evolu- 
tion of psychopathic affections. 





Professor of Education, Emory and Henry College, Emory, Va. 

A RECENT article by Brill, entitled "Artificial 
Dreams and Lying/' 1 recalled to me a little work 
I did two years ago while engaged in making an 
introductory study of dreams as a thesis at Clark 
University. The part which is hereby submitted is a 
fragment of a larger work and, being only a sort of side 
issue, was never included in the thesis proper. I have 
made only such changes as were made necessary by the fact 
that this is a fragment and needed one or two minor changes 
to make it complete. 

Let me say at the beginning that I have the greatest 
and most profound resp'ect for Freudian theories as inter- 
preted by G. Stanley Hall and other men of like scholarly 
ability, but I have never been able to accept the more 
extreme form ol Freudianism as interpreted by some of the 
most prolific writers in this field. I have found that the 
charges made by Habermann 2 are substantially true. I 
find it very helpful indeed, to try to interpret my own 
dreams and to assist some of my students to do so according 
to the Freudian formula, and to a certain point I believe 
these interpretations are undoubtedly true. The question 
is to find the point beyond which the interpretation becomes 
artificial. Personally, I believe that this will always have 
to be decided finally by the individual himself rather than 
by some outsider who insists on reading in a certain in- 
terpretation. I have come to believe that it is possible 
for one to become trained to the point at which he is able 
to decide just how far the interpretation goes, or, at least, 
to approximate it. 

1 Journal Abnormal Psychology, Vol. 9, No. 5. 
* Journal Abnormal Psychology, Vol. 9, No. 4. 


Raymond Bellamy 33 

With these few introductory remarks I shall submit 
the -paper, which was written in 1912. I have not appended 
the rather long and cumbersome bibliography from which 
I drew these references, but I can supply any reference 
that is wanted. 

If we examine the Freudian system, we find that it is 
impossible to disprove this theory of dreams. If we demon- 
strate that a dream has no sexual connection whatever, 
they have only to say that it is the censor that blinds, and, 
by resorting to symbolism and other such very present 
helps in time of trouble, they show plainly that we were mis- 
taken. The situation is the same as it would be if I de- 
clared that what I saw as blue appeared yellow to the rest 
of the world. The disproof of this and of Freudianism are 
equally impossible. But, on the other hand, have the 
Freudians presented any proof or argument on the affirma- 
tive side of this question? They are over fond of saying, 
"Freud has proven thus and so," but in what did the proof 
consist? The great answer to all objections has been to 
analyze dreams and, so far as I know, the attempt has never 
failed to show that the dream in question conformed to the 
prescribed requirements. And in truth, it is not a difficult 
matter to analyze a dream a la Freud. After a little practice, 
especially if one has a vivid imagination and is somewhat 
suggestible, it is possible to find the repressed sexual wish 
in every dream. But if we use such flexible and wonderful 
factors as the four mechanisms, and, above all, symbolism, 
we can find the same things in any other experience. By 
this I mean that if we take a bit out of our daily life, a dream 
of some one else, a fictitious story, an historical incident, 
or any other pictured situation and pretend that it is one 
of our own dreams and apply the Freudian analysis, we find 
that it serves for this purpose as well as a real dream. When 
this is the case, it is absurd to put any faith in the analysis 
of real dreams, when carried to extremes. 

As an illustration of the above statement, the following 
is a fairly typical example. The supposed "dream" is a 
commonplace bit out of my daily life. This is chosen at 
random (although Jones would say such a thing is impossi- 
ble) and subjected to a dream analysis. 

34 An Act of Everyday Life 


Dream. I was walking along a street on a cold winter 
night. I looked down at the cement walk and in this was 
set a piece of granite on which the letters " W. H." were cut. 
Coming to the corner, I looked up and saw on a short board 
which was nailed to a post, the name of the street, "Queen 
Street/ 3 The street running at right angles to this was 
King Street, and I turned and went down this. After 
walking a short distance, I came to a house from a window 
of which a light was shining. The house number was "23." 
I took a key from my pocket, unlocked the door and entered. 
Analysis. In attempting to analyze this (so-called) 
dreant, I was amazed to find with how many past longings 
and emotionally-colored experiences it was associated. , I 
first took up the letters on the sidewalk, and as I repeated 
them, letting my mind be as blank as possible in order that 
the associations might be free, I gained an immediate 
response. "W. H." "Which House" came out as in 
answer to a question. With these words there was a definite 
visual image of a young country farm youth standing talking 
to two persons in a buggy. I remembered the incident 
in all its details. I was the young man and these people 
were asking the way to a certain place, or at which house 
they should stop. As it so happened, I was at' that time 
keeping company with a young lady who lived at the very 
house concerning which they asked. I will not go into 
detail any further at this point, for this is a real case and 
I should be trespassing on personal ground. But any one 
who yet remembers his boyhood courtship, with all its 
agonies and fears, its hopes and joys, its disappointments 
and its pleasures, can see at a glance how important this 
.occasion is in throwing light on the meaning of the dream. 
Of course "W. H." stood for "Which House." 

I seemed to get no further in my associations with these 
letters at this time, and my thoughts spontaneously turned 
to the name of the street. "Queen Street." Even more 
readily and completely than in the other case, there came a 
whole complex of associations. First there was the name 
and image of Miss Agnes Queen, whom I had known for 

Raymond Bellamy 3 5 

years. But, strange to say, the image was of this young 
l#dy standing and talking to a certain Mr. Harding. I saw 
them together but once, and it seemed passing strange that 
this incident should be the one remembered in connection 
with the ,name. But the associations were rapidly progress- 
ing, and I mentally reviewed parts of three or four years 
during which I was working and closely associating with 
this Mr. Harding. Here I began to see some light. This 
Mr. Harding was in all respects, at least as far as I knew him 
a man of good morals, but he was much less particular in 
his social habits than I -was. He w T as engaged to a young 
lady all the time I was with him, and wrote letters to her 
constantly; but this fact did not prevent him from paying 
attentions to other young women, and I was aware that he 
was more familiar with them than conventionality would 
warrant. In fact he made no attempt to be secret in the 
matter, and often poked fun at me for my over sensitivity 
on the subject. Here was the key to a whole lot of meaning. 
The first year I was with him, I had no sweetheart or any 
lady friend on whom to center my affection or to -whom I 
could write. There were a number of young men in our 
"squad," as it was called, and nearly all of them had corre- 
spondents and it was a joke among us that I was "out in the 
cold world with no one to love." In reality, this was not so 
much a joke for me at the time, as I tried to give the im- 
pression that it was, and I longed for the very thing of 
which we joked. The fact that I was out on the street on 
a cold winter night in this dream symbolized being "out 
in the cold world," as we had used the term then. 

I now took up the letters " W. H." again, and the words 
"White Horse" came in response to the stimulus. With 
little hesitation I placed this as connected with the Knights 
of the White Horse of whom Tennyson writes in his poems 
of " King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table," I got very 
little out of this, but still the White Horse was a band of 
men who were unrestrained in their desires and bore about 
the same relation to King Arthur's Knights that Harding 
did to me. However, the associations did not stop here, 
but went on, giving what at first seemed to be a meaningless 
list of words. "W. H." first called up the words, "Wish 

36 An Act of Everyday Life 

Harding "; next, "Will Harding"; next, "With Harding"; 
and last, "Walk Harding." In a minute it flashed on me 
what this all meant. "I wish to do as Harding is doing, to 
walk the way he is with him and I will" To walk up Queen 
Street meant, then, to follow his example, as he at one time 
paid some attention to this Miss Agnes Queen. Perhaps 
the reason why her name was selected instead of some others 
was because his relations to her had been very slight and 
formal, and thus the idea was easier for the censor to let 
into sleeping consciousness than it would have been if some 
other names had been taken. "W. H.," then, symbolized 
the four expressions that arose in the analysis. 

The meaning of "King Street" came last of anything 
in the dream, but I will give it now. I did not seem to be 
able to get anywhere on this for some time, and the idea 
kept presenting itself that it symbolized that I was king 
of the situation which seemed innocent enough; but at 
last there came an association with Nero as portrayed in 
"Quo Vadis." I then remembered how I read this book 
while in the adolescent stage, and how a cousin made 
remarks, very sensuous in their nature, about parts of it, 
I then got a vision of the book, "Mad Majesties," which 
I saw on the library table not long since. Next came a 
memory of the French kings as portrayed in the works of 
Dumas. At this point, I realized that -the idea, suggested 
by the word king is very often, though not always, an idea 
or image of a very loose person as far as his social life is 
concerned. Thus to walk Queen Street or follow the ex- 
ample of Harding finds a parallel in walking King Street 
or following the example of a king. ' 

With the light in che window, I came into an entirely 
new field of associations. I cannot go far into detail here 
as it would involve others as well as myself, but suffice to 
say that the light in the window called up a paper on the 
subject of light which was written by a Mr. X. and read in 
my hearing. Now Mr. X. and I had both kept company 
with the same young lady at different times, and here was 
another group of emotionally colored experiences. How- 
ever, the important function performed by the light was 
that it symbolized (together with the house in which it was) 

Raymond Bellamy 37 

the comforts., warmth and pleasures of the very opposite 
condition from that of being "out in the cold world with no 
one to love." 

The house number "23" is associated with at least two 
occasions. One Sunday evening, a few of the boys of our 
"squad," myself among them, went out with the daughter 
of our landlady, and one or two other young ladies and took 
a boat ride in the park. It was a beautiful summer night 
and the park was full of young people who were treating 
each other to very endearing caresses. There were so many 
who wanted boats that only one boat was unoccupied, and 
it was No. 23. It had been left because it was a hoodoo 
number, and the other boaters were all superstitious. As 
we were not, we took this boat and used it. My longing 
lonesomeness was about at its maximum height on this 
night. The other occasion associated with this number is 
that I became engaged when I was twenty-three years old, 
and at that time desired greatly to be married; but, as I was 
in school, it had to be postponed. 

Now the climax of the dream! I took a key from my 
pocket, unlocked the door and entered. This is so plain 
that it hardly needs comment. Being in the cold world, as 
symbolized by the cold street, I enter the warmth and 
comfort of the lighted house. The key and lock are, of 
course, phallic symbols and have special significance for 
me as I once took a young lady to a banquet at which the 
favors were paper keys and hearts. Thus symbolically are 
fulfilled all the longings I felt while with Harding, all my 
desires to be married when twenty-three, all nay adolescent 
courtship yearnings, and all my remaining repressed sexual 

As a point which may have a little bearing on this, I 
have recently received a letter from Harding and in it was 
information that he is for a time away from home, and I 
wondered if he is still careless in his behavior. 

This analysis will seem foolish in the extreme to many, 
and I am one of the number, but my excuse is that I have 
copied as closely after the Freudians as possible. I have 
only to invite a comparison. This is not a "made-up" 
dream, but a little bit out of my daily life; just an experience 

38 -An Act of Everyday Life 

occurring on the way home from the seminary. The analysis 
is real in the sense that the associations arose as I have 
recorded them. 

- Perhaps some ardent Freudian might find it in his heart 
to say that this analysis only strengthened their position, as 
it showed how a whole sexual background underlies our 
entire life, and therefore our dreams must have a sexual 
origin. But the reason why I found a sexual solution of this 
was that I started the analysis with a definite Bewusstein- 
lage, as Titchener "would call it, which consisted of a knowl- 
edge that I had started for a certain kind of solution, and 
the whole course of the associations was governed by this. 
If Freud had at first come into the possession of a theory that 
every dream fulfills a fear, or pictures a state of anger or 
any other emotion, he would have had just as good success 
in demonstrating the truth of his statements. The follow- 
ing analysis will illustrate this. This is a real dream, but 
before beginning the analysis, I took the attitude that the 
analysis would reveal the fulfillment of a fear or show that the 
dream was the dramatic representation of a feared condition 
as actually existing. It took some time to get into this 
attitude, it is true, but when the result was finally accom- 
plished, the analysis was begun and the attempt was made 
to follow the Freudian method as closely as possible under 
the changed conditions. 

The Dream. On the night of February first, I dreamed 
that I was going down a little hill in company with my 
brother and Mr. N. We seemed to be in Colorado, and at 
-the foot of the hill was a little stream which was very pretty. 
There was a little waterfall, and a green pool below it, and 
a mist hung over the pool, I am not sure I saw the color of 
this pool. There was also a huge rock around which the 
water dashed. Some people were fishing in the stream. Some 
one asked if we could see the rainbows, and Mr. N. replied 
that he could see only one. I then looked carefully and saw 
a purple haze in the mist over the pool and supposed this 
was what was meant. But, as I continued to look, I saw a 
great number of rainbows, or at least patches in the mist 
over the water which showed the spectral colors. These 
were about two feet in diameter and extraordinarily beauti- 

Raymond Bellamy 39 

fuL I was very anxious to get some of the trout which I 
felt sure were in the stream. As we came nearer, it seemed 
that the stream had overflowed and there were several 
shallow pools not over a foot deep and eight or ten feet long. 
In these pools could be seen fish by the dozen from a foot to 
eight feet long. I was slightly troubled because it would 
muddy my shoes, but I began to try to get some of them out. 
I got one very big one by the gill slit, but could not manage 
him and had to let him go. J handled several in the dream, 
but do not know whether or not I got any out. 


I had some trouble in getting any light on this dreamt, 
but suddenly much of the meaning became clear and a 
whole group of associations came up. Undoubtedly the 
trouble I experienced at first was caused by the resistance of the 
censor. I will give the associated memories first and explain 
them later. 

I delight in fishing and have spent many happy hours- 
fishing for trout in the clear waters of the Colorado streams; 
but, strange as it may seem, it was not a memory of any of 
these which come into consciousness. Instead, there came 
up memories of three different instances, each accompanied 
with definite visual imagery, and in such rapid succession 
that I could hardly tell which came first. 

Six years ago last summer, I crossed the Ohio River to 
spend a day in Carrolton, Kentucky, and on the way back, I 
bought some fish of a fisherman at the river's edge. This 
man was barefooted and wore a little greasy wool hat and 
very ragged clothes. I remember thinking at the time that 
his work must be very degrading, and that the river fisherman 
must be about the lowest type in that part of the country. 
I especially noticed his feet and legs, which were bare to the 
knees, and which were so sunburned that they hardly looked 
like parts of a white man's body. In the analysis of this 
dream, the image of the man as he stood there and the 
memory of the incident came back with great vividness* 

A year or two later, my brother and I were riding along 
the road at about the same place, and we met a very miser- 

40 An Act of Everyday Life 

able-looking specimen of humanity, driving a poor limping 
horse to a rickety wagon in which were some pieces of drift- 
wood. My brother was in a " spell of the blues'* at this 
time, and he remarked that he was coming to just that 
condition as fast as he could. The image and memory of 
this incident also came into consciousness as if it had been 
waiting repressed just under the surface. 

The other memory was one in which I did not figure 
personally. A year or so ago, my brother was telling me 
how he and his boy had gone to the river several times and 
gone fishing with an old fisherman who lived there. My 
nephew, like most boys, had a desire to become a fisherman 
or hunter, and my brother had suspected that a little close 
acquaintance with the way a fisherman lived would cure 
him of this desire; in this he was entirely right, and after a 
few trips to visit the old fellow, he had expressed himself as 
cured of any desire to live the beautiful, pleasant life of a 
river fisherman. 

Without going any further, it can easily be seen that 
a fisherman symbolizes for me everything that is synonymous 
with failure. Thus, when I stepped out into the muddy 
water and began fishing I symbolically became a failure, a 
no-account, a man who had failed in the struggle and had 
not achieved success. The very fact that we came down 
hill to the place of fishing shows, on the face of it, that a 
downhill career is symbolized. My brother was with me, 
and that is easily explained as a dramatization of the fact 
that I was accompanying him on that downhill road to the 
state of the man in the rickety wagon which he had prophe- 
sied as his future. The water in the shallow pools was 
muddy, and I stepped into it just after experiencing a fear that 
I would get my shoes wet. Remembering the fisherman's 
bare brown feet, this can be Interpreted as nothing but a 
very strong symbolization of a drop from a cultured and 
successful circle to a low and unsuccessful one. I grasp a 
fish bigger than myself and struggle with it, but; am com- 
pelled to give it up. Another symbol: my work is plainly 
too big for me; this question is too much for me to handle, 
and this thesis will ultimately have to be given up as the big 
fish is. In fact, I cannot say that I succeeded in getting any 

Raymond Bellamy 41 

fish out of the water and, therefore, I shall never succeed at 
anything I undertake, but will land figuratively; if not 
actually, in the fisherman's hut. 

The Mr, N. who was with us, was cross-eyed which, in 
itself, seemed to have no special meaning; but it immediately 
called up an image of a cross-eyed man standing at the 
river's edge at Vevay, Indiana. This fellow was the picture 
of ignorance and want. He was telling another man about 
catching a big fish a few days before and how he liked that 
kind of fish boiled so well, but he could not wait for it to boil, 
but had fried part of it and eaten it that way. As I heard 
him relate this and watched his face, the whole event seemed 
to me to be most disgusting. As I was watching him, some 
one at my side told me that, because of a drunken spree, he 
had been disfranchised. He was also a fisherman and 
another typical specimen of the class. Mr. N., having 
the same facial defect, though in a much less noticeable way, 
became identified with him, and I am again found walking 
down the hill to oblivion in company with this brother in 
distress. This is bad for Mr. N., but it cannot be helped. 

The rainbows seem bright enough, but they bring in 
another disquieting group of associations. The rainbow is 
almost, if not quite, a universal symbol of failure. We all 
know the old story of going to the end of the rainbow for a 
pot of gold, and if we want to belittle any effort we say that 
the individual is chasing the rainbow. So here I am again 
on the downhill road between two failures, following the 
rainbow to a hopeless condition of muddy uselessness. And 
if it were not bad enough to be following one rainbow, I am 
following a great number which must mean that I shall 
always end in failure whatever I undertake. 

But, besides this, the rainbow has special associations 
for me. The first of these associations which came into con- 
sciousness was a little booklet made by a Latin student and 
handed her professor. I had several years of Greek and 
Latin under this teacher and at a certain place in the course, 
he asked each student to make a little booklet of some kind, 
using as much originality as possible, copy some favorite 
quotations from De Senectute and hand in the finished 
product. Every year he gets these out and exhibits them 

42 An Act of Everyday Life 

as a kind of inspiration. One of them had a rainbow and a 
pot of gold on the cover. I spent a great deal of time and 
work on mine and made a more elaborate booklet than any 
other that had been made, but I purposely left it unfinished 
and inscribed a statement that this was to typify the kind 
of work I did in that department. Of course it was a joke, 
but I have often thought that there was method in this mad- 
ness, and that it really approximated the true state of affairs* 
This seeming chance association, then, is closely connected 
with my fear of making a failure which is so clearly drama- 
tized in this dream. 

The fact that the dream, is placed in Colorado is also 
important. Two years ago, I spent the summer in Colorado 
and had a very delightful time, as was natural, being on a 
wedding trip. But during this stay, I did make a total 
failure at fishing. I had been a fairly successful trout fisher 
a few years before, but I had forgotten the art and did not 
do enough fishing to relearn. In other words, my dream 
gives me to understand that I cannot be successful even in 
fishing. One evening my bride and I witnessed a most 
beautiful sunset, a rainbow figuring largely in the scene. 
At this time we were debating whether or not to go on 
farther West as I had originally planned; but circumstances 
prevented this and instead of going on farther, we came 
back East or toward the rainbow. This is just one more 
place where the dream so clearly symbolizes a failure to do 
what I undertake. I will not carry the analysis any further, 
though I could find associations by the hundred which 
would strengthen the meaning given. 

Of course I am not at all conscious of having any such 
fear as this. In fact I am rather inclined to be over-confident; 
but this is, of course, due to the repressing influence of the 
censor and only strengthens the analysis. 

Examples could be given until the last trump is sounded 
and the world rolled up like a scroll, but I do not want to 
keep any one so long. Whatever we wish to make out of a 
dream the dramatization of a fear, a joy, a joke (really 
this is what the Freudians often do), a tragedy, anything 
that can be suggested, the result can easily be accomplished 
if only we be allowed the use of Freud's mechanisms and a 
moderate amount of symbolism. 

Raymond Bellamy 43 

I have tried to show: First, that any situation or ex- 
perience can be analyzed with as good success as a dream, 
and second, that a dream may be made to mean anything. 
In other words, with Freud's method, one can demonstrate 
anything to suit his taste or belief. Long ago, the saying 
was formulated that all roads lead to Rome. This being 
true, it must also be true that all roads lead everywhere else* 
Freud employs a wonderful figure of a mystical sphere, with 
its layers and cross veins and other mineralogical character- 
istics, to represent the part of consciousness with the re- 
pressed factor at the center well guarded. It would be far 
more to the point if he should represent the whole of past 
experience as the surface of a country, with its various 
roads connecting the different centers. The stations would 
then represent the experiences, and the roads the association 
tracks between them. If one should travel at random over 
these roads, he would in time pass through all kinds of towns 
and cities, but if he started in quest of a certain type, say 
mountain villages, he would arrive at his goal much more 
quickly than he would otherwise. The Freudians them- 
selves acknowledge that they have difficulty in knowing 
when to stop the analysis. Their plan seems to be to travel 
until the landscape suits them and then get off and camp. 

Thus, while I have made no attempt to give positive 
proof or argument that Freud's theory, in its extreme form 
is at fault, I have tried to substantiate my argument that 
there has been no real argument on the other side. And 
when a theory so spectacular and altogether out of the 
ordinary is presented, the burden of the proof should very 
decidedly be thrown on the positive side. We have no 
obligation or even excuse for accepting such a theory on the 
mere presumption of the originator. 

And that Freud's theory is weird and fantastic is a 
self-evident fact. Perhaps the Clark University student 
who very carefully worked it up a few years ago went a 
little too far when he said it was a chaotic inferno; but at 
any rate, it is far removed from celestial harmony. Sidis 
takes about the sanest attitude possible when he refers to 
certain Freudian writings as being full of unconscious sexual 
humor. He observes further as does Prince and others 

44 An Act of Everyday Life 

that the Freudian school is in reality a religious or philo- 
sophical sect. He says that Freud's writings constitute 
the psychoanalytic Bible and are quoted with reverence and 
awe. Kronfeld, in a most valuable criticism, says that 
in comparison with Freud's conception of the vorconscious 
and its work, Henroth's Demonomania appears a modest 
scientific theory. 

The attitude of the Freudians is, itself, worth noticing. 
They are very prone to consider any criticism as very per- 
sonal., and fly to the rescue with all the fervor of a religious 
fanatic, A work on dreams, because it does not bear out 
Freud in all details, calls forth thunderbolts from two con- 
tinents. This over-anxious attitude indicates that the 
belief in the theory is based on an emotional condition 
rather than logical reasoning. Bernard Hart, who is one 
of those happy individuals who get the best out of Freudian- 
ism, shows the difference between the two kinds of belief 
by comparing our belief that the earth goes around the sun 
and that the man who abuses a woman is a cad. The cold, 
indifferent attitude toward the former is in marked contrast 
to our warm lively interest in the latter, and the reason 
is that the belief in the one is founded on scientific demon- 
stration and in the other on our feeling in the matter. If 
we allow this as a gauge by which to measure, it is not difficult 
to place the Freudians. 

We must not overlook the immense opportunity for 
suggestion in the work of psychoanalysis, both on the subject 
and the one who is in the work. The Freudians vehemently 
deny that any of the results of dream analysis are suggested 
into the mind of the dreamer, but the evidences are all on 
the other side. Freud, in referring to psychoanalysis of 
hysterical patients, says, "It is not possible to press upon 
the patient things which he apparently does not know, or to 
influence the results of the analysis by exciting his expecta- 
tions." Such an attitude is fatal when it comes to a ques- 
tion of accurate work. And no less important is the self- 
suggestion practiced by the Freudians. When we read of 
Freud's long struggle in an attempt to find something which 
he felt surely was to be found, we see that he had abundant 
opportunity to acquire almost an obsession. The long 

Raymond Bellamy 45 

years since, which he has spent in analyzing dreams and 
making them all come out right some way, would, serve to 
more firmly ground his conviction, and the same is true of 
his disciples. Put a man to drawing square moons for ten 
years, and at the end of the time he will swear that the moon 
is square. 

A large portion of the scientific world seems to have 
gone mad over the term "psychoanalysis." But this kind 
of work has been done by all peoples and times under different 
names. There can be no objection to such an analysis of a 
dream if it is done by the right person. The dream may be 
used to aid the dreamer in finding out his own life, it is true, 
and when we understand psychoanalysis as this process, a~nd 
only this, it is not objectionable. But if such is the case 
there is no need of all the mechanism and symbolism. The 
preacher who uses the Old Testament stories of the wars 
with the Philistines to illustrate a moral struggle is not to be 
criticised; but if he maintains that they were written for 
that purpose, we should hardly feel inclined to accept his 
position. A very inspiring message might be builded on the 
text, "The ants are a people not strong, but they prepare 
their meat in the summer" ; but it is hardly possible that such 
thoughts were in the mind of the writer. Just so, a dream 
or a story or any other situation may be used to open the 
locked doors of a life, but to say that the dream has slipped 
stealthily out of the keyholes and over the transoms and 
wonderfully, mysteriously and magically clothed itself is 
quite another matter. 




WE are frequently confronted with the question: 
"Just why does an erotic conflict cause the neu- 
rosis? Why not just as well another conflict?" 
To this the only answer is, "No one asserts 
that this must be so, but evidently it always is so, 
in spite of anything that can be said against it. It is, 
notwithstanding all assurances to the contrary, still true 
that love (taken in its large sense of nature's course, which 
does not mean sexuality alone), with its problems and its 
conflicts of the most inclusive significance, has in human life 
and in the regulation of the human lot a much greater im- 
portance than the individual can image. 

The trauma-theory (meaning what was in the beginning 
conceived by Breuer and Freud) is therefore out of date. 
When Freud came to the opinion that a hidden erotic con- 
flict forms the real root of the neurosis, the trauma lost its 
pathogenic significance. 

An entirely different light was now thrown upon the 
theory. The trauma question was solved, and thrown aside, 
Next in order came the study of the question of the erotic 
conflict. If we consider this in the light of the chosen 
example, we see that this conflict contains plenty of abnormal 
moments, and at first sight does not suffer comparison with 
an ordinary erotic conflict. What is especially striking, 
seemingly almost unbelievable, is the fact that it is only the 
exterior action, the pose, of which the patient is conscious, 
while she remains unconscious of the passion which governs 
her. In the case in question the actual sexual factor un- 
questionably remains hidden, while the field of consciousness 
is entirely governed by the patient's pose. A proposition 
formulating this state of affairs would read as follows. 


A. W. Van Renter ghem 47 

In the neurosis there are two erotic inclinations which 
stand in a fixed antithesis to each other^ and one of these at 
least is unconscious. 

It might be said of this formula, that although perhaps 
it is adapted to this case, possibly it is not adapted to all 
cases. Most people, however, are inclined to believe that 
the erotic is not so widespread. It is granted that it is so 
in a romance, but it is not believed that the most affecting 
dramas are more often enacted in the heart of the citizen 
who daily passes us by unnoticed, than upon the stage. 

The neurosis is an unsuccessful attempt of the individual 
to solve in his own bosom the sexual question which per- 
plexes the whole of human society. The neurosis is a dis- 
unity in one's inmost self. The cause of this inward strife 
is because in most men the consciousness would gladly hold 
to its moral ideal, but the subconsciousness strives toward 
its (in the present-day meaning) immoral ideal. This the 
consciousness always wants to deny. These are the sort of 
people who would like to be more respectable than they 
are at bottom. But the conflict may be reversed; there are 
people who apparently are very disreputable, and who do 
not take the slightest pains to limit their sexual pleasures* 
But looked at from all sides this is only a sinful attitude, 
adopted, God knows for what grounds, because in them, back 
of this, there is a soul, which is kept just as much in the 
subconsciousness as the immoral nature is kept in the sub- 
conscious of moral men. (It is best for men to avoid ex- 
tremes as far as possible, because extremes make us suspect 
the contrary.) 

This general explanation was necessary in order to 
explain to some extent the conception of the erotic conflict 
in analytical psychology. It is the turning-point of the 
entire conception of the neurosis. 

After Breuer's discovery, putting into practice the 
"chimney sweeping " so justly christened by his patient, 
this method of treatment has evolved into shorter psycho- 
analytical methods, which we will now discuss in succession 
in their main points. 

In his use of the primitive method, Freud depended 
upon the time saving of hypnotism and upon the circum- 

48 Freud and His School 

stance that many could not be brought into the desired deep 
degree of provoked sleep. The aim of this operation was 
to call up in the patient another state of consciousness, in 
which it would be possible for him to remember facts which 
had given cause for the origin of the phenomena, facts which 
thus far had remained hidden from the ordinary daily 
consciousness. By questioning the patient when in this 
state, or by spontaneous production of phantasies com- 
municated by the patient while in hypnosis, memories come 
to light and affects connected with them are relaxed (these 
are abreagirt [rearranged], as the expression is) and the 
desired cure is attained. This just-mentioned method 
(cathartic, cleansing) and more especially the modified one, 
which aims especially at the promotion of a spontaneous pro- 
duction of phantasies communicated by the pajtient while 
under hypnotism, is still used in practice by some investi- 
gators. In what follows we go still further back Freud 
next sought for a method to render hypnotism unnecessary. 
He discovered it by applying an artifice which he had seen 
Bernheim use during a visit (1887) to the latter's clinic at 
Nancy. Bernheim demonstrated upon a hypnotized patient 
how the amnesia of the somnambulist is only an appearance. 
With this aim in view, Freud from then on ceased to 
hypnotize his patients and substituted for that method, 
"spontaneous ideas. " This means that when the analysis 
of a patient who is awake is obstructed, and has come to a 
dead stop, he is told to communicate anything which comes 
into his mind, no matter what idea, what thought, even if 
the thing were very queer to him or seemed meaningless. 
In the material thus obtained the thread should be found 
leading to the semi-forgotten, the thing hidden in the con- 
sciousness. In single cases where the resistance toward 
bringing into consciousness the forgotten or repressed thing, 
the complex, was slight this method of treatment very 
quickly attains its end, but in others where the resistance 
was greater, the spontaneous ideas merely brought about 
indirect representations, mere allusions as it were to the 
forgotten element. Here favorable results either were not 
so readily obtained, or else were entirely lacking. In con- 
junction with this, Freud planned a simple method of 

A. W. Van Renterghem 49 

interpretation by means of which, from the material thus 
obtained, the repressed complexes could be brought to con- 

Independently of Freud, the Zurich school (Bleuler, 
Jung) had planned the association method in order to 
penetrate into the patient's subconsciousness. The value 
of this method is chiefly a theoretical experimental one; it 
leads to an orientation of large circumference, but neces- 
sarily superficial in regard to the subconscious conflict 
(complex) . 

Freud compares its importance for the psychoanalyticus 
with the importance of the qualitative analysis for the 

Not being completely satisfied with his method of spon- 
taneous ideas Freud sought shorter paths to the subcon- 
scious, and therefore undertook the study of the dream-life 
(dealing with forgetfulness, speaking to one's self, making 
mistakes, giving offense to one's self, and with superstition 
and absent-mindedness, and the study of word quibbles taken 
in their widest sense), to all of which we are indebted for the 
possession of his three important books: "Die Traum- 
deutung" (First edition 1900, third edition 1912); "Zur 
Psychopathologie des Alltagslebens" (1901-1907); "Der 
Witz und seine Bedeutung zum Unbewussten" (1905). 

Because of the discovery of the repressed and the for- 
bidden in the soul life, the instructions contained in the three 
last-named works are of great importance and of help to us 
in the study of the spontaneous ideas of the patient brought 
to light by free association. But what is of more importance 
for analysis is the study of what may well be termed Freud's 
masterpiece, "Die Traumdeutung." 

Jung expresses himself as follows in regard to Freud's 
ingenious discovery. 

"It can be said of the dream that the stone which was 
despised by the architect has become the corner-stone. The 
acorn of the dream, of the ephemeral and inconsiderable 
product of our soul, dates from the earliest times. Before 
that, men saw in the dream a prophecy for the future, a 
warning spirit, a comforter, a messenger of the gods. Now 
we join forces with it in order to explore the subconscious. 

50 Freud and His School 

to unravel the mysteries which, it jealously guards and 
conceals. The dream does this with a completeness which 
amazes us. Freud's exact analysis has taught that the dream 
as it presents itself to us, exhibits merely a fagade, which 
betrays nothing of the inmost part of the house. But when 
by attention to certain rules we are able to bring the dreamer 
to express the sudden ideas awakened in him in talking over 
the sub-division of his dream, then it very quickly appears 
that the sudden ideas follow a determined direction., and are 
centralized about certain subjects, possessing a personal 
significance and betraying a meaning, which in the beginning 
would not have been suspected back of the dream, but 
which stand in a very close symbolical relation, even to 
details, to the dream facade. This peculiar thought- 
complex, in whi'ch all the threads of the dream are united, is 
the looked-for conflict in a certain variation which is deter- 
mined by the circumstances. What is painful and con- 
tradictory in the conflict is so confused here that one can 
speak of a wish-fulfillment; let us, however, immediately 
add that the fulfilled wishes apparently are not wishes, but 
are such as frequently are contradictory to them. As an 
example let us use the case of a daughter who inwardly loves 
her mother and dreams that the latter is dead, much to her 
sorrow. Dreams like this are frequent. The contents make 
us think as little as possible of a wish-fulfillment, and so one 
might perhaps get the idea that Freud's assertion that the 
dream presents in dramatic form a subconscious wish of the 
dreamer is unjust. 

That happens because the non-initiated does not know 
how to differentiate between manifest and latent (evident 
and hidden) dream contents. Where the conflict worked 
over in the dream is unconscious, the solution, the wish aris- 
ing from it, is also unconscious. In the chosen 'example, the 
dreamer wished to have the mother out of the way; in the 
language of the subconscious it says: I wish that mother 
would die. We are aware that a certain part of the sub- 
conscious possesses everything which we can no longer 
remember consciously, and especially an entirely thought- 
less, childish wish. One can confidently say that most of 
what arises from the subconscious has an infantile character, 

A. W Tan Renter ghem 51 

as does this so simple sounding wish: "Tell me, father, if 
mother died would you marry me?" The infantile expres- 
sion of a wish is the predecessor of a recent wish for marriage, 
which in this case we discover is painful to the dreamer. 
This thought, the seriousness of the included meaning is, 
as we say, " repressed into the subconscious " and can there 
necessarily express itself only awkwardly and childishly, 
because the subconscious limits the material at its disposal, 
preferably, to memories of childhood and, as recent 
researches of the Zurich school have shown, to "Memories of 
the race," stretching far beyond the limits of the individ- 

It is not the place here to explain by examples the terri- 
tory of dream-analysis so extraordinary composed; we must 
be satisfied with the results of the study; dreams are a sym- 
bolical compensation for a personally important wish of the 
daytime, one which had had too little attention (or which had 
been repressed). 

As a result of the dominant morals, wishes which are 
not sufficiently noticed by our waking consciousness and 
which attempt to realize themselves symbolically in the 
dream are as a rule of an erotic nature. Therefore it is 
advisable not to tell individual dreams in the presence of the 
initiated, because dream, symbolism is transparent to one 
acquainted with its fundamental rules. Therefore we have 
always to conquer in ourselves a certain resistance before 
we seriously can be fitted for the task of unraveling the 
symbolical composition by patient work. When we finally 
comprehend the true meaning of a dream then we at once 
find ourselves transposed into the very midst of the secrets 
of the dreamer and to our amazement we see that even an 
apparently meaningless dream is full of sense and really 
bears witness of extremely important and serious things 
concerning the soul-life. This knowledge obliges us to have 
more respect for the old superstition concerning the meaning 
of dreams, a respect which is far to seek in our present-day 
rationalistic era. 

Freud correctly terms dream-analysis the royal road 
which leads to the subconscious; it leads us into the most 
deeply hidden personal mysteries and, therefore, in the hand 

52 Freud and His School 

of the physician and the educator is an instrument not to be 
too highly valued. 

The opposition to this method makes use of arguments 
which chiefly (as we will observe, from personal motives) 
originate in the still strongly scholastic bent, which the 
learned thought of the present-day exhibits. And dream- 
analysis is precisely what inexorably lays bare the lying 
morals and the hypocritical pose of men, and now for once 
makes them see the reverse side of their character. Is it 
to be wondered at that many therefore feel as if some one 
were stepping on their toes? 

Dream-analysis always makes me think of the striking 
statue of wordly pleasure which stands before the cathedral 
at Basel. The front presents an archaic sweet smile, but 
the back is covered with toads and snakes. Dream-analysis 
reverses things and allows the back side to be seen,. That 
this correct picture of reality possesses an ethical value is 
what no one can contradict. It is a painful but very useful 
operation, which demands a great deal from the physician 
as well as from the patient. Psychoanalysis seen from the 
standpoint of therapeutic technic consists chiefly of numer- 
ous analyses of dreams; these in the course of treatment, 
little by little, bring what is evil out of the subconsciousness 
to the light and submit it to the disinfecting light of day, 
and thereby find again many valuable and pretendedly lost 
portions of the past. It represents a cathartic of especial 
worth, which has a similarity to the Socratic "maieutike," 
the " obstetric. " From this state of affairs one can only 
expect that psychoanalysis for many people who have taken 
a certain pose, in which they firmly believe, is a real torture, 
because according to the ancient mystic saying: "Give 
what you have, then shall you receive!" They must of 
their own free will offer as a price their beloved illusions if 
they wish to allow something deeper, more beautiful and 
more vast to enrich them. Only through the mystery of 
self-sacrifice does the self succeed in finding itself again 

There are proverbs of very old origin which through the 
psychoanalytical treatment again come to light. It is 
surely very remarkable that at the height to which our 

A. W. Van Renterghem 53 

present-day culture has attained this particular kind of 
psychic education seems necessary, an education which 
may be compared in more than one respect with the technic 
of Socrates, although psychoanalysis goes much deeper. 

We always discover in the patient a conflict which at 
a certain point is connected with the great social problems, 
and when the analysis has penetrated to that point, the 
seemingly individual conflict of the patient is disclosed as the 
conflict, common to his environment and his time. 

Thus the neurosis is really nothing but an individual 
(unsuccessful to be sure) attempt to solve a common problem. 
It must be so, because a common problem, a "Question" 
which plunges the sick man into misery is I can't help 
it "the sexual question," more properly termed the ques- 
tion of the present-day sexual moral. 

His increased claim upon life and the joy of life, upon 
colored, brilliant reality, must endure the inevitable limita- 
tions, placed by reality, but not the arbitrary, wrong, in- 
defensable limitations which put too many chains upon the 
creative spirit mounting from out the depths of animal 
darkness. The nervous sufferer possesses the soul of a 
child, that arbitrary limitation which represses and the 
reason for which is not understood. To be sure it attempts 
to identify itself with the morals, but by this it is brought 
into great conflict and disharmony with itself. On one 
side it wishes to submit, on the other to free itself and 
this conflict we speak of as the neurosis. 

If this conflict in all its parts were clearly a conscious 
one, then naturally no nervous phenomena would arise from 
it. These phenomena arise only when man cannot see the 
reverse side of his being and the urgency of his problem. 
Only under these circumstances does the phenomena occur 
which allows expression to the non-conscious side of the soul. 

The symptom is thus an indirect expression of the non- 
conscious wishes, which, were they conscious to us, would 
come into a violent conflict with our conceptions of morals. 
This shadowy side of the soul withdraws itself, as has once 
been said, from the control of the consciousness; by so 
doing the patient can exert no influence upon it, cannot cor- 
rect it and can neither come to an understanding with it 

54 Freud and His School 

nor get rid of it, because in reality the patient absolutely 
does not possess the subconscious passions. Rather they are 
repressed from out the hierarchy of the conscious soul, 
they have become autonomous complexes, which can be 
brought again into consciousness only with great resistance 
through analysis. Many patients think that the erotic 
conflict does not exist for them; in their opinion the sexual 
question is nonsense; they have no sexual feeling. These 
people forget that in place of that they are crippled by other 
things of unknown origin. They are subject to hysterical 
moods, bad temper, crossness, from which they, no less than 
their associates, suffer. They are tortured by indigestion, 
by pains of every sort, and are visited by the whole cate- 
gory of other nervous phenomena* 'They have this in place 
of what they lack in the sexual territory, because only a few 
are privileged to escape the great conflict of civilized man 
of the present day- The great majority inevitably takes part 
in this common discord. 

As specimens of dream-analysis I will give resumes of 
two histories of illness told me by Dr. Jung. 



A twenty-year-old banker's son, from a large city in 
Hungary, suddenly grew sick two, years ago, shortly after 
his father had suffered an attack of apoplexy and paralysis 
of the right side. He is spiritless, restless, not able to work, 
cannot use his right arm to write, is powerless to piit his 
attention on anything, sleeps badly, etc. No treatment 
has any helpful effect. He is advised to seek distraction in 
Paris, but this, too, is of no avail. Then, after months of 
torture, he came to Zurich to Dr. Jung, who subjected him 
to analysis. At the second visit the patient .behaved ex- 
tremely mysteriously; he was much disturbed and ap- 
peared to be under the influence of an anxious dream, which 
he had dreamt that night. It required some effort to induce 
him to tell this dream, and it was only after he had convinced 
himself that no one could listen in the hall, that this story, 
not without emotion, came out. 

A. W* Van Renterghem 55 

"I see in a vault a coffin in which my father lies, and I 
beside him; in vain I attempt to remove the lid, and in my 
horrible fear I awake." 

Some days were employed with the analysis of this 
dream. The explanation of it is : he has a very strong father- 
complex. From childhood up he has always been with his 
father, he has assumed the role of his father's wife, has cared 
for him, lived for him. He often reproached his mother 
fo-r not making enough of the father, for not always cooking 
his favorite dish, for sometimes contradicting him, etc. He 
was always around with his father, worked at his office, 
served him in all sorts of ways, and anticipated all his 
wishes. Now, when the father suddenly became an invalid, 
the conflict arose. He identifies himself with the father. 
His father's invalidism becomes his own, he cannot think 
any more, he cannot write any more, and he sees death 
approaching. In the dream he is apparently dead, but his 
youth, his strength refuses to die, and this is translated in 
his attempts to get out of the coffin, which explains the fear. 

The explanation brings relaxation. After some days, 
during which the patient communicates his secret thoughts 
in detail, he feels very much better, his heavy burden has 
been rolled away, and he cannot find words enough to ex- 
press his thanks to the doctor. The latter points out to him 
that however natural this feeling of thankfulness may be, it 
is partly a symptom of the cure at his hands. He shows the 
patient how the latter, who had seen through the analysis 
that his love for his father has been exaggerated and mor- 
bid, had been able to control this, and how he now transfers 
to him, the assisting physician, the need for love, freed from 
suffering along the way of sublimated homo-sexuality. He 
impresses upon him that he must now learn to moderate the 
sympathy, which he expresses too feelingly, and that he 
must not desire to see another father in the doctor, but 
simply a friend, who is teaching him to stand on his own 
feet and to become an independent man. After a few more 
weeks the young man was entirely cured of his neurosis, 
freed from his exaggerations and returned home a well 

56 Freud and His School 


Once when traveling I made the acquaintance of a 
naturalist who not long before had completed a famous 
exploring expedition in distant countries. During this 
expedition he had been almost constantly in peril of his life* 
Almost every night he had had to stay awake and watch 
so as not to be set upon and killed. He had been back in 
England a short time and had completely recovered from 
the privations and sufferings he had experienced, but he 
suffered desperately from insomnia. On his return he had 
slept well, but a month before his sleep had suddenly begun 
to be disturbed. 

Knowing me to be a neurologist, he asked my advice. 
I inquired about the patient's former life, but discovered 
that my traveling companion was little inclined to be com- 
municative in this direction, in fact he was strikingly ret- 
icent. To my inquiry about the immediate origin of the 
insomnia, he told me it was immediately connected with 
a miserable dream which he had dreamt a month past, and 
from which he had awakened in terrible anxiety. I asked 
him to tell me this dream and gave him hope that perhaps 
the analysis of this might succeed in laying bare the cause 
of the insomnia. The substance of the dream was as follows : 

" I was in a narrow gorge, formed by almost perpendicu- 
lar 'walls of rock. This made me think of a similar narrow 
gorge which, during my journey, I had passed through at 
peril of my life. Upon a jutting rock a hundred yards high 
above the abyss, I saw a man and woman standing, shoulder 
to shoulder, both covering their eyes with their hands 
They step forward and I see them plunge* downwards to- 
gether, and hear their bodies falling to destruction. Scream- 
ing wildly I awoke. Since that time I dare not let myself 
sleep for fear of the repetition of this dream. 

The patient, accustomed to deadly peril on his long 
expedition, could not explain to himself the anxiety caused 
by this dream. I called Mr. X.'s attention to the fact that 
in my opinion an erotic conflict was concealed in the dream, 
and asked him point blank whether he had taken part in a 
love story. At this the patient grew deadly pale, struck 

A* W. fan Renterghem 57 

the table with his fist 'and said "That you should have 
guessed it!" Now the confession followed, how he had had 
a love affair in which he had not cut a good figure and 
which ruined a woman's life, and that afterwards he had 
been violently remorseful and had lived with the idea of 
suicide. Then he had seized upon the opportunity offered 
him to lead a dangerous expedition. He wanted to die and 
here he would not find death ingloriously. 

It is clear that the two people upon the rocks above 
symbolized the two, who went to meet destruction. 

Soon afterwards the travelers parted. A year later the 
newspapers contained the report of the marriage of the 
famous explorer. The surmise is allowable that the analysis 
of this dream was the cause of this fortunate solution. 

As I have already pointed out, the original cathartic 
method of Breuer and Freud, explained to some extent, is 
still followed by some investigators, by Muthman, Bezzola, 
Frank and many others. I had the opportunity in June 
and July, 1912, of observing for some time the treatment 
of patients by Dr. Frank in Zurich at his private clinic, and 
of gaining for myself a satisfactory idea of his technique. 
Frank by no means rejects the Freudian psychoanalysis 
with all its helps, but uses it only when he does not succeed 
in hypnotizing his patient. Preferably, and in a great num- 
ber of cases, he uses, in a state of hypnotism, a cathartic 
method he originated. 

Where Breuer and Freud profited from the spontaneous 
or the .provoked somnabulistic state of the patient, and by 
questioning dug up the hidden depths, Frank decided to be 
satisfied with a light hypnose, a state of hypotaxie, which 
might be termed * analogous to the half-conscious state of 
the person who after taking a mid-day nap frequently denies 
having been asleep. In this condition we can give an ac- 
count on waking of what happened around us. One sleeps 
and one does not sleep; the upper-consciousness then can 
control what the sub-consciousness brings up. 

Frank says that, except in the peculiarity that he is 
satisfied with a lighter degree of hypnose, his method differs 
from that of Breuer and Freud in that generally he does not 
question the patient when under hypnotism, neither suggests. 

58 Freud and His School 

Experience has taught him, he says, that the ideas loaded with 
affect, spontaneously discharge. They are the very ones 
which would do so in a dream, but are differentiated from 
the occurrences in the dream in the sense that these last 
enter phantastically dressed, while the first express them- 
selves with the mental affects belonging to them, precisely 
as they were lived through. 

Precisely as in the primitive-cathartic method, the affects 
pushing in here are disemburdened here, but at the same 
time, the connection between the existent sick-phenomena 
and the causes having a place here were automatically con- 
scious to the patient. In some cases suggestion is called 
upon for help in order to free an affect or to direct the at- 
tention to the expected scene. 

. In most cases the process goes on itself, after the intro- 
duction of hypnosis. If the sleep is too deep, then the ideas 
are transferred into real dreams, which the patient immedi- 
ately recognizes as such, or the production of scenes discon- 
tinues; the superconsciousness no longer works. 

The scenes described are usually recalled by the patients,. 
just as they were experienced by them, even when taken 
from the earliest youth. The reality of the events which 
happened in childhood, lived over again in hypnose, are 
substantiated as much as possible by the patient's parents or 
associates. He succeeds best in inducing this semi-sleep 
by exhorting the patient as he closes his eyes not to bother 
about whether he sleeps or not, but to fasten his attention 
upon the scenes which are about to present themselves; 
that is, to think himself, so to speak, into the state of some- 
one at a moving picture show. 

As an example I give a fragment of a Frankian analysis 
of a case of 


Y. B., born 1883, a law clerk. Patient comes on the 
third of December, 1908, to Frank's consultation hour; 
he complains of periods of short breath; during these he feels 
as if his heart were ceasing to beat, especially when he is . 
just going to bed. He feels then as if something heavy 

A . W . Van Renterghem 59 

were striking him on the chest, great restlessness, and a 
feeling of faintness comes over him. After taking a glass of 
wine the condition is aggravated and becomes insupportable. 
These attacks come once or twice a day, mostly in the 
evenings. At times they keep off for eight or ten days. He 
lives continually in an excited state, he suffers from palpita- 
tions of the heart, from pain in the left thigh, pain in the 
left side, and at night cannot get to sleep. 

Patient attributes this condition to an automobile 
accident which happened to him on June 2, 1908. Even 
before this accident he had been a trifle nervous on account 
of overwork. In the automobile accident he had been 
thrown out, and had been thrown a distance of ten or 
fifteen yards. The automobile, which was at high speed, 
had also plunged down the decline, but luckily the patient 
was not caught directly under the machine. He did not 
lose consciousness, and escaped with some scratches and a bad 
fright; it was a marvel that he and the chauffeur escaped with 
their lives. He plainly recalls thinking, during the fall, that 
his last hour had come, and even yet is amazed how extremely 
untroubled he had been by that thought. The days follow- 
ing the accident he felt as if his face were burning, and he 
was inwardly agitated whenever he thought of an auto- 
mobile. On June 30, 1908, he was obliged to take a business 
journey. While seated in the station restaurant it suddenly 
grew dark before his eyes. He could breathe only with 
difficulty, his heartbeats were irregular and he had a 
strange sensation of fear. This condition lasted the whole 
day. On the return journey his train ran into an auto- 
mobile truck. The patient was thrown to the floor of the 
coupe by the shock. This incident made a great impression 
upon him; nevertheless, for eight days he was free from the 
uneasiness already described. After that an attack of fear 
again set in, continuing at intervals, with periods of greater 
or lesser violence, until the present. 

December 7, 1908. A first attempt to induce hyp- 
nosis was successful. 

December 8, 1908. Patient goes to sleep immediately, 
becomes frightened and gives frequent signs of terror. 
When awakened, he mentioned that he had had a feeling 

60 Freud and His School 

as if he were falling into a hole, that had given him a very 
strange sensation. The patient speaks while he sleeps; 
his super-consciousness therefore remains awake and is 
able to take notice directly of the scene taking place. After 
some minutes he sees in the hypnosis a locomotive ap- 
proaching. He cries out, "There it comes out of the tunnel." 
He is afraid of being run over, and is terrified. Two years' 
previously he had been through this scene. He was stand- 
ing on the track when a train approached, and he was afraid 
of being run over. In his sleep, the patient communicates 
the details and sees everything clearly. After a short in- 
terval of complete rest, he begins to breathe heavily, his pulse 
quickens, then he cries out in fright and excitement and 
dread, "Now it's coming, now the auto's coming, it's turning 
over, we're under it, there it's riding over us!" Gradually 
he quiets down again, and after a quarter of an hour, awakes. 
He says he now feels something lifted from his chest, that 
he has slept well, and feels better. He recalls everything. 
The train came out of the tunnel with gleaming lights; this 
scene took place in the evening. The automobile scene was 
reproduced precisely as he had taken part in it, no detail 
escaped him; his breathing is unobstructed now, and he has 
no more heart palpitations. 

On the day appointed for the seance I was unexpectedly 
obliged to go away. When I wished to resume the treat- 
ment, January 9, the patient wrote me that his condition 
was strikingly improved, the heart palpitations and feelings 
of anxiety had not reappeared. His pleasure in life and work 
had returned once more, his night's rest left nothing to be 
desired, his appetite was excellent, therefore he thought 
that further treatment was not necessary for the present. 
To a later inquiry, February 12, 1910, a year afterwards, 
I obtained this answer: "Without exaggeration I am able to 
write you that in my whole life I have never felt so well as 
now. There has been no question of any nervous attacks 
or feelings of dread. My weight, which had gone down to 
fifty-eight kilos during my nervous sickness", has gone up 
to seventy kilos." 

When Frank shuts himself up with his patients in a 
room, from which all outer noises are excluded as much as 

A. W. Fan Renter ghem 61 

possible, by means of double windows and doors, although 
he by means of electric light signals visible to him alone 
keeps in touch with the servant outside, he has the patient 
recline as comfortably as possible upon a low sofa. He 
kneels on a cushion at the head, bends down over the patient 
and has the latter look upwards directly into his eyes. 
Meanwhile he lets his left hand rest upon the patient's 
forehead and gently presses the latter's eyelids with his 
thumb and forefinger. As soon as the patient shows signs 
of weariness, he carefully gets up, takes a seat next to the 
patient and continues carefully observant of the latter's 
behavior and expression of countenance. He makes note of 
everything that shows itself and rouses the patient after 
about a quarter of an hour, unless the latter awakes spon- 
taneously. Now he talks over with him the material which 
has been procured and then has the patient go into a re- 
newed hypnosis, until the end of an hour. Sometimes the 
seances are protracted when important scenes come up, and 
in the interest of the treatment it might be lengthened to 
two or even three hours. 

Bezzola makes use of a small, light, black silk mask, 
which he puts on the eyes of the patient. He induces 
hypnosis, and for the rest follows Frank's technique already 

While analysts who avail themselves of hypnosis as 
a means of help have all their patients take a reclining 
position, those who have given up hypnotism in their treat- 
ment, have also given up this reclining position. Freud 
continues to prefer having the patient assume a reclining 
position, and takes his position with his back to the patient, 
behind the head of the sofa. He considers that this manner 
of treatment induces the greatest calmness in the patient 
and makes it easier for him to express himself and to confess. 
He keeps as quiet as possible, listens with undivided atten- 
tion, does not take any notes during the seance^ not wishing 
to give rise to the suspicion that all the confession will be 
written down and perhaps seen by other eyes. 

Jung receives the patient in his study just as he would 
receive any ordinary visitor. He thinks that in this way 
the patient is put most at his ease and that it makes him 

62 Freud and His School 

feel he is not considered as a patient, but rather as some one 
who, being in difficulties, comes to ask advice and needs to 
tell his troubles -to a trusted friend. Even less than Freud 
does he take notes in the presence of the patient. 

Stekel does as Jung, the only difference being that he 
remains seated at his writing-table and makes notes of the 
most important points. 

The most satisfactory way for the uninitiated to make 
himself familiar with the technique of psychoanalysis is to 
submit himself to psychoanalysis. For that purpose one 
turns to an experienced analyst, and takes to him one's 
ideas and dreams. Consequently I submitted myself for 
two months to analysis from Dr. Jung, who in that way ini- 
tiated me into the practice of psychological investigation. 
The interpretation of one's own dreams, reading and study- 
ing of the principal literature about analytical psychology 
or deep psychology, as Bleuler calls it; and the application 
of what is thus learned, at the start to simple, later to more 
difficult cases, must do the rest in making an independent 
investigator in this branch of psycho-therapy. 

As has already been said, psychoanalysis aims at bring- 
ing into consciousness all the forgotten things. When all 
the gaps in the memory are filled in, when all the puzzling 
operations of the psychological life are explained, then the 
continuance and the return of the suffering has become 
impossible. The attainment of this ideal state is truly the 
attainment of Utopia. Most certainly a treatment does 
not need to be carried so far. One may be satisfied with the 
practical cure of the patient, with the restoration of his power 
for work, and with the abolition of the most difficult func- 
tional disturbances. 

It is applicable in cases of chronic psychoneurosis 
which exhibit no difficult or dangerous phenomena. Among 
these are counted all sorts of compulsive neuroses, compul- 
sive thoughts, compulsive behavior and cases' of hysteria, 
where phobias and obsessions play a chief role, also somatic 
phenomena of hysteria which do not need to be acted upon 
quickly, such as, for example, anorexia. In acute cases of 
hysteria it is better to wait for a calmer period before apply- 
ing psychoanalysis. In cases of nervous prostration this 

A. W. Fan Renter ghem 6: 

manner of treatment, which demands the serious co-operatior 
and attention of the patient, which lasts a long time and ai 
first takes no notice of the continuance of the phenomena 
is difficult. This form of psychotherapy places great de- 
mands on the physician's patience and understanding. 
Psychoanalyses which last more than a year, are no rarity. 
It cannot be applied to the seriously degenerated; to people 
who have passed far beyond middle life, because among the 
last named the accumulated material compasses too much: 
to those who are entangled in a state of great fear and whc 
live in deep depression. Analysis can be applied to the 
neuroses of children. It is desirable in those cases for the 
physician to be supported by a trusted person, as for exam- 
ple a woman assistant, but preferably by parents enlightened 
sufficiently to observe the spontaneous remarks of the child , 
to make notes of them, and communicate them to the phy- 
sician. According to the experiments undertaken by the 
Zurich school, the expectation is justified within certain 
limits, that psychoanalysis will be therapeutically useful 
in certain forms of paranoia and dementia praecox. 

I think that it will soon be said of psychoanalysis, as 
of so many other systems which like it were decried and yet 
later were highly valued, that the enemies of to-day are 
the friends of to-morrow. 

Whoever wishes to judge Freud must take the trouble to 
initiate himself seriously into his doctrines, and use his 
methods for a long time in practice, according to his in- 

Most of the condemnations are brought forward by in- 
vestigators who judge a priori^ without acquaintance with 
the facts, upon uncertain theoretical grounds and with 
prepossession against his sexual theory - 

Whoever initiates himself seriously into the practice 
of psychoanalysis, will arrive at the conclusion that this 
new form of psychical curing deserves, to a great degree, the 
attention of the physician and that it may be considered 
as an enrichment of the armory of the psychotherapy, not 
yet sufficiently valued. 

Does it render other forms of psychotherapy super- 
fluous? There can be no thought of that. 

64 Freud and His School 

Taking the pros and cons given here, we see that each 
of the forms of psychical therapy deserves in its turn prefer- 
ence, and that all support and complement each other. 

Jung, as well as Freud, both of whom have made their 
life's aim the perfection of psychoanalysis, and who for that 
reason now concern themselves exclusively with it, appreciate 
all forms of verbal treatment, as well with hypnotism as 
without it. Hypnotic suggestion and suggestion given 
when awake was used at an earlier period by both of them 
with good results, and they still are not averse to using this 
method where quick comprehension and the immediate 
subdual of a troublesome symptom is desired. 

The psychoanalyst follows the longer road, and assails 
rather the root of the sickness; it works more radically; 
hypnotic treatment takes hold quicker and is directed at the 

Freud explains it in this manner: when one treats the 
patient by hypnotic suggestion, one introduces a new idea 
from outside in exchange for the morbid idea; if psycho- 
analysis is applied, then one simply eliminates the morbid 
idea. Within certain limits the modus agendi of the two 
methods is in absolute opposition. 

The suggestion method, substituting one idea for an- 
other, puts in something; the analytical, expelling an idea, 
takes out something. Both aim at and obtain the same 
end, a more or less lasting cure. Suggestion neutralizes, 
stops the poison; analysis expels the harmful matter. The 
latter manner of treatment is positive and the most decisive. 

"Don't we all analyze?" Bernheim inquires, and once 
more I agree that all forms of psychotherapeutics do, but 
there is a difference in analysis. 

Superficial analysis can bring us a long way toward 
the goal. In many cases it may suffice. But the profound, 
the Freudian analysis, is what we need if we wish to attain 
the radical cure of psychoneurosis, as far as we can ever 
speak of a radical cure. Many cases of illness do not lend 
themselves to deep analysis. 

When, because of the nature of the illness, or the life- 
time, or the feeble intelligence of the patient, or because of 
temporary circumstances of a moral or material nature, its 

A. W. Van Renterghem 65 

adaptation is excluded or impossible, it is advisable, espe- 
cially in chronic cases to take refuge in the more pallia- 
tive forms of the psychic methods of cure. 

Thus the psychotherapeutic as moral leader fills the 
role of guide (directeur-d*ames}.> one who helps along the 
doubter, encourages the toilers, calms the frightened, 
arouses courage,, keeps up hope and comforts where comfort 
is needed, 

Pierre Janet, in his instructive book ("Obsessions et 
Idees Fixes"), observes that one of his chronic patients gave 
him the pet name of "le remonteur de pendules" an expres- 
sion which luminously describes the role of the physician of 
souls, who, tirelessly, day in, day out, lifts the burdens, and 
for a time breathes new life into the depressed. 

Hypnotic suggestion, which induces sleep, stills pain 7 
silences fear, abolishes functional disturbances, works 
Chiefly palliatively. The place for its application is where 
quick comprehension is desired. In its simplest form it 
resembles the treatment of a mother, who soothes her child 
with pacifyng words and loving touch, and rocks him to 
sleep, and also it resembles the behavior of the father, who 
asserts his authority by force and breaks down the childish 
opposition. We find hypnotic suggestion, perfected and 
clothed in its scientific garment, in Liebeault's assertion: 
" It is a cure of authority, of faith, of confidence, a cure which 
frequently performs semi-miracles. Respect on one side, sym- 
pathy on the other, is what gives the hypnotiser results/' 

However highly we may value this last mentioned form 
of therapy, however numerous the cures due to it may be, 
however indispensable it may be in the practice of medicine, 
yet its splendor pales before the light which shines forth 
from the cures which aim at reeducation and which are di- 
rected toward the understanding. Those are the cures 
which make use of analysis. 

One method, which we will call the superficial analytical 
method, is directed exclusively toward the upper conscious- 
ness and cures principally through exhorting, convincing, 
exercising and hardening. Its sponsors are Bernheim, 
Rosenbach, P. E. Levy, Dubois. At least it is true to its 
birth, it has suggestion blood in its veins. 

66 Freud and His School 

The other method is the deeper: the Freudian analysis. 
This does not allow itself to be satisfied with seeing only one 
side of the medal, it does not limit its field of activity to the 
superliminal consciousness, in searching for the causes of 
psychogenic illnesses, but it penetrates into the strata 
which lie hidden under the threshold of the consciousness. 

Where the moral and the suggestive methods of cure are 
limited exclusively to symptomatic treatment, the first 
form of educative therapy, limited merely to a superficial 
analysis, is only partly symptomatic, but the second form of 
educative therapy penetrates 'with its deep-going analysis 
to the root of the trouble, and has as its aim a fundamental 

Only too frequently the physician must be satisfied with 
the cure of the symptoms, with lightening the load. He 
always strives to remove, the cause. Freud's great service 
is that he has opened before the physician a path which 
leads to the cause. 

These lines of Vondel's seem as if composed for him: 

"The physician must not only know 
How high the pulse has mounted, 

And where the sickness lies, which makes him groan with pain, 
But he must see the cause, from, where 
The great "weakness of this sickness came." 


M.D. Illustrated with photographs and diagrams by the author. 
The Macmillan Company, New. York, 1913. 

The study of the brain is confessedly a difficult subject, and 
particularly so for the elementary student. There is certainly 
no royal road to its conquest, but this is an added reason why an 
introduction to its study should be made as simple as the subject 
permits, and also as interesting. Dr. Fiske has attempted this 
task in this book, which he entitles "An elementary study of the 
brain." The brain of the sheep is chosen as the basis of study 
because of its availability, its relative simplicity of structure, and 
its essential similarity to that of man. It appears to the author, 
and we think with justice, that the subject should be approached 
from a biological standpoint; hence, throughout the book, there 
is constant reference to the evolution of nervous structure and 
to fundamental conceptions of a biological character. Further 
than this, the relations of cerebral anatomy and function, to- 
gether with allied psychological considerations, demand continual 
reference as a supplement to purely anatomical considerations. 
The secret of exciting interest in any anatomical study surely lies 
in a consideration of the function of tfye organ or structure in 
relation to its anatomical form. Bare descriptions cannot and 
should not inspire interest, whereas the driest anatomical facts, 
if seen in their broader relationships, at once assume a significance 
in the student's mind which may be attained in no other way. 

The first chapter is a brief statement of phylogeny, followed, 
as are succeeding chapters, by directions to the student regarding 
means of stu dy . The second chapter concerns itself with ontogeny, 
and the student is -wisely advised to make drawings of various 
stages in the development of the brain of one of the higher mam- 
mals. An actual brain is always to be preferred to a model. 
The third chapter gives directions of a simple and practical sort 
as to methods of removing the sheep's brain. Thereafter, chapters 
follow, descriptive of the various surfaces of the brain, of sagital, 
horizontal and transverse sections, and of certain of the internal 
structures and the brain stem. 

A summary concludes the volume, and a very brief but well 
selected bibliography. The illustrations are thoroughly ade- 
quate, the excellent method being used of photographic repro- 
ductions, with accompanying descriptive plates done In outline. 
In general, the book, modest though it is, should prove a most 
admirable laboratory guide, not only for students of zoology, but 


68 ' Reviews 

also for those who propose, as physicians, to make a final study 
of the human brain. It is, no doubt, more difficult to write an 
acceptable elementary text-book than a more complete treatise, 
but the author, we have no hesitation in saying, has succeeded in 
this object, and has added a book of positive value to the long 
list which has gone before. The BNA nomenclature has been 
adopted in part, but by no means to the exclusion of the old termi- 
nology, which is certainly a far more efficient means of introducing 
an ultimate uniform nomenclature than an immediate complete 
change to the BNA system. The text is well printed and read- 
able, and the proof reading in general good. We note, however, 
on page 86, that the name Von Gudden is spelled with one d in- 
stead of two. 


DENTS. By Barbara Spoffard Morgan. G. P. Putnam's Sons, New 
York, 1914. Pp. xvii plus 263. 

This book by Mrs. Morgan, which is somewhat unique and 
certainly very different from other books on the same subject, 
promises to be one of the most widely read educational works 
which has recently appeared. It is based on two years' experience 
in an experimental clinic for backward children in New York 
City and the author states that, "It is an effort to persuade 
teachers and parents, in spite of a hide-bound educational system, 
to study the children that interest them as individuals and to 
recognize their faculties and tendencies." It "Looks to a future 
when teachers will so understand every child's mental structure 
that his "whole education will be directed to the fortifying of his 
weak points and the development of his tendencies." 

The author terms her process "mental analysis" and says it 
differs from the Binet and Simon tests in that they are merely to 
classify children, and her method discovers peculiarities and also 
gives the training necessary to bring the child up to normal. 
She gives a psychological basis for her work which will be sur- 
prising to many readers because of its great divergence from the 
usual psychological treatment. The child's mind is considered as 
having four primary processes, namely: (1) Sense Impressions, 
(2) Recollections of Sense Impressions, (3) Association Channels 

Reviews 69 

(4) Abstraction Processes. As the child grows older these are 
elaborated into Imagination, Reasoning, and Expression. Atten- 
tion is of three kinds: (1) Homogeneous Attention or concen- 
trating, which consists in attending to one thing for a period of 
time; (2) Simultaneous Attention or observing, which consists in 
giving attention to a number of things at once; and (3) Disparate 
Attention, or giving attention to two or more things over a period 
of time. Memory may be (1) Automatic, (2) Voluntary, or (3) 
Retentive. The function of the tests is to determine just which 
one of these processes are weak or strong and discover a method 
of education which is suited to the individual. Other mental 
processes, such as sensation, perception, abstraction, and judg- 
iftent are discussed, and an interesting treatment distinguishing 
between the analytic and synthetic type of mind is given. 

One of the most important parts of the book is the discussion 
of the way in which the tests are given. She insists that the re- 
lation of the child and the examiner be very personal and informal 
and that the process be varied as much as possible in order to 
prevent crystallization. Many of the tests are the same, or much 
the same, as those of Simon and Binet, but the greatest of liberty 
is taken in adapting them to the particular case. Much use is 
made of conversation, puzzle-pictures and other little friendly 
means by which the personal characteristics of the child may be 
learned. After this is done, the proper training of the child is to 
be selected and the effort made to bring him back to normality, 
for which purpose, some quaint and interesting devices are used, 
One case given is that of a little girl whose senses of sound and 
form were defective and who therefore could not learn her letters. 
These letters were pasted on the keys of a piano and she was 
taught to play a piece with one finger, meanwhile chanting over 
the names of "the letters as they 'were struck. In this way her 
sense of sound was trained, she learned her letters and gained 
ability to learn more and faster. Abstraction may be strength- 
ened by having the child measure distances with a rule, first cal- 
culating the distance with his eye. The power of association may 
be made stronger by having the individual sort words or pictures 
which are pasted on slips of cardboard; he is to arrange them 
according to meaning or according to the activities with which 
they have to do. Simultaneous attention may be trained by 
such games as "Hide-the-thimble" or Jack-straws, and homoge- 
neous attention may be trained by some such action as hammer- 
ing nails in the upper left hand corners of all the squares on a 
board. Imagination is developed by retelling stories, and inven- 
tion by solving puzzles; voluntary memory is strengthened by 

70 Reviews 

writing original rhymes and automatic memory may be strength- 
ened by having the child write out a list of all the things in his 
kitchen or any other room with which he may happen to be 

Different types of backward children are described and a 
few pages are devoted to a discussion of hysteria. 

It is a book which will, in all probability, arouse considerable 
discussion and which will find some warm friends and some de- 
termined enemies. As one more publication calling attention to 
this important problem, it is of great value and it will probably 
be read more widely than any other book in this field which has 
appeared* Perhaps its greatest practical value lies in its suggest- 
iveness as to the ways in which one may use his personality and 
initiative in dealing with backward children, rather than sticking 
so closely to prescribed tests and methods. 

Emory & Henry College, 
Emory, Va. 

ASSOCIATION FOR 1913. By Sir Oliver Lodge. G. P. Putnam's 
Sons, New York and London, 1914. Pp. v, 131. 

The most obvious particular wisdom of the present scientific 
period is undoubtedly just that concept denoted by the title of 
this volume., continuity. And this wisdom is advanced wisdom 
and, withal, wisdom which is very expedient and even indis- 
pensable at this day, as a reaction required to set right the over- 
specialization of recent minds thoughtful only of some little 
branch of knowledge. Just in proportion as one esteems "au- 
thority" will one give heed to the pronouncement of the presi- 
dential address before the British Association, yet for its own 
intrinsic sake it is a piece of work which cannot be ignored. 

Interesting and revolutionary as are the recent additions to 
philosophical physics brought about by the discovery of radium 
and its like, it is the other phase of this great physicist's mental 
trend which particularly interests the student of human be- 
havior that wisdom which gives him (as it gave William James, 
and for a like reason), the bravery to look a bit beyond the more 
or less materialistic confines of mere science into the broader 
realm. And strange, is it not, that a man need be brave in this 
twentieth century Domini to discuss spiritism and survival 
and telepathy? Only those do it who cannot "lose their jobs." 

Reviews 71 

Can one indeed honestly doubt that many an intelligent psycholo- 
gist to-day is kept from investigating this pressing phase of 
knowledge largely, or even solely, by the materialistic incubus 
whose continuance still stands for an academic salary usually 
sufficient to buy wife and children bread, if not a little meat? 

"Material bodies are all that we have any control over, are 
all that we are experimentally aware of; anything that we can do 
with these is open to us;' any conclusions we can draw about them 
may be legitimate and true. But to step outside their province 
and to deny the existence of any other region because we have no 
sense-organs for its appreciation, or because (like the ether) it is 
too uniformly omnipresent for our ken, is to wrest our advantages 
and privileges from their proper use and apply them to our own 
misdirection." . . . "I am one of those who think that the methods 
of science are not so limited in their scope as has been thought: 
that they can be applied much more widely., and that the psychic 
region can be studied and brought under law too. Allow us any- 
how to make the attempt. Give us a fair field. Let those who 
prefer the materialistic hypothesis by all means develop their 
thesis as far as they can; but let us try what we can do in the 
psychical region, and see which wins. Our methods are really the 
same as theirs the subject-matter differs. Neither should 
abuse the other for making the attempt." 

Here is this matter in a nutshell, and the evolution of cos- 
mology in the last few years makes this argument and this plea 
greatly more persuasive still, for it forges one more link in the 
actual knowledge of continuity. 

Twenty-four pages of useful, explanatory notes follow in this 
volume, the text of the Address. The book lacks an index. To 
those sapient ones who have not already saved the important 
little work out of Science, the dollar which this volume costs is a 
dollar well-spent, unless, indeed, philosophy be to him but a re- 

Tufts Medical and Dental Schools. 

Little, Brown & Co., 1914. 

Professor Flournoy, in the Preface to his Spiritism and 
Psychology, made the remark: "It will be a great day when the 
subliminal psychology of Myers and his followers, and the abnor- 
mal psychology of Freud and his school, succeed in meeting, and 
will supplement and complete one another. That will be a great 

72 Reviews 

forward step in science and in the understanding of our nature." 
(Page VI.) 

Any one who attacks the problem from this standpoint, in 
the right manner, is to be commended; and this is, very largely, 
the method of attack taken by a certain group of "psychical re- 
searches "; it is also the method of approach of Mr. Bruce, in the 
book under review. Although it will probably contain but little 
new to the student of abnormal psychology, it is, nevertheless, a 
welcome and extremely sane presentation of the problems dis- 
cussed; while, for the general public, the effect of the book cannot 
be other than beneficial, giving a sound and scientific view-point 
of many of these obscure and outlying problems. 

Much of this book will be familiar to readers of the JOURNAL. 
The chapters on the "Subconscious" (extended and amplified 
in his final chapter on "The Larger Self")., "Dissociation and 
Disease," and "The Singular Case of B. C. A.," contain a sum- 
mary of material long familiar to general psychological students 
though this data has not been sufficiently popularized as yet, 
while the case of B. C. A. is a relief after the oft-quoted earlier 

The first chapter, "Ghosts and their Meaning," deals with 
apparitions of the living, of the dying, and of the dead ac- 
cording to the tentative arrangement of these cases made by 
the English S. P. R. Most of these are quoted from the Society's 
Proceedings^ and the usual theories are offered to account for 
them; in the case of apparitions of the dead, <?, g., "ghosts," the 
theory of deferred telepathic suggestion being held. This brings 
us naturally to the second chapter, "Why I believe in Telepathy," 
which again contains a summary of much of the S. P. R. work 
in this field; accompanied, however, by some other cases and a 
few interesting incidents which fell under the author's personal 
observation. The next two chapters deal with "Clairvoyance and 
Crystal Gazing" and "Automatic Speaking and Writing" re- 
spectively. Here, again, the bulk of the material is familiar to 
psychical and psychological students; though it must be admitted 
that this material is all excellently and carefully summarized. 
The author's attitude, throughout, is strictly critical and scien- 
tific; and while he believes in telepathy and other supernormal 
powers, he rejects spiritism as an explanation, and his views 
throughout are temperate and modest. 

The remaining chapter, dealing as it does with "Poltergeists 
and Mediums," takes us into the more dubious field of "physical 
phenomena" spontaneous and experimental and cases are' 
discussed which lie outside the province of the psychologist, 

Reviews 73 

since they entrench more upon the domain of physics and biology. 
As such they have been treated and discussed by the majority of 
Continental savants* 

One word more regarding the famous medium, Eusapia 
Palladino, whom Mr, Bruce refers to in several passages in this 
Chapter, referring to her in a footnote on page 196, as "The dis- 
credited Eusapia Palladino, once the marvel of two continents.'* 
May I take this occasion to repeat here what I have often repeated 
in public and private, elsewhere? and that is, that I retain my 
unshaken belief, amounting to a conviction, in the genuineness 
of Eusapia's power, and that, despite the trickery which was 
undoubtedly discovered here and which had also been dis- 
covered, I may add, more than twenty years before she ever came 
to this country she yet possesses genuine, remarkable powers 
of a supernormal character, and this belief, I may say, is shared 
equally by all the continental investigators, who remain unaffected 
by the so-called American expose. A statement of their attitude 
Is perhaps well summarized by Flournoy, in his Spiritism and 
Psychology (Chap. VII) ; while I have published the records of the 
American seances for those who may be interested in my 
"Personal Experiences in Spiritualism," where copious extracts 
from the shorthand notes of the American sittings are given. 

To return, however: If there is a criticism to make of Mr. 
Bruce's book, it is that it displays a lack of personal investigation 
and experimentation, and bears throughout the ear-marks of a 
literary compilation. But this is, after all, not a serious detraction 
from a work of this character, which is, as I have said before, 
excellently done. 



TIQUES, Par R. Benon* Ancien interne de la C Unique des Maladies 
Mentales et de PEncephale d la Faculte de Paris ^ Medecin de F Hospice 
General de Nantes (Ouartiers d* Hospice). G. Steinheil, editeur, 
Paris, 1913; pp. x-449. 

The author in this volume has written a clinical and medico- 
legal treatise on traumatic nervous affections from a broad and 
philosophical standpoint. The subject is treated under the 
following headings: "Generalities," in which is discussed the 
historical development of our knowledge of the effects of trauma- 
tism, the etiology, the evolution of the various disturbances, and 
the legal side of the questions at issue. 

Following this introduction, under Chapter I, the general 

74 Reviews 

topic of what the \vriter terms the traumatic dysthenias or the 
traumatic sthenopathies is discussed under the following sub- 
headings: (a) Simple post-traumatic asthenia; () Post-traumatic 
astheno-mania; (*:) Prolonged asthenia and chronic traumatic 
asthenia, under which he includes traumatic neurasthenia, trau- 
matic hystero-neurasthenia, traumatic neurosis, and traumatic 
psychoneurosis; (d) Chronic post-traumatic mania; (<?) Periodic 
post-traumatic dysthenias; (/) Asthenic mania and pathological 
anatomy. Chapter II, under the general heading, ** Traumatic 
Dysthymias: (a) Anxiety post-traumatic hyperthymia; () 
Traumatic hypochondriasis and traumatic hysteria; (c) Special 
hyperthymia of accidents; (d) Hysterical and traumatic crises; 
(<?) Prolonged or permanent post-traumatic disturbances of char- 
acter in children and adults. Chapter III, under the general 
heading, "Traumatic Dysthymias": (a) Traumatic amnesia; 
() Post-traumatic Korsakoff syndrome; (c) Traumatic mental 
confusion; (<^) Post- traumatic agnosia; (<?) Post-traumatic de- 
mentias; (/) Systematized chronic post-traumatic deliriums. 
Chapter IV, under the general heading, " Psychic states and 
Diverse Post-Traumatic Neuroses": (a) Post-traumatic epilepsy; 
(b) Traumatic aphasia; (c) Alcoholism, traumatism and hal- 
lucinatory conditions; (d) Post-traumatic sensual perversions; 
(<?) Pains, vertigos, deafness, etc., following trauma; (/) Distant 
post-traumatic psychic disorders with cerebral lesions; (g) Un- 
classifiable observations. To this comprehensive material is 
added an appendix on the topic of psychic and neurotic dis- 
turbances as indications for trephining. 

This outline of the contents of the book, which contains in 
addition many subheadings, gives a sufficiently clear idea of its 
scope and of the pains which the author has taken to subdivide 
his subject matter to the last possible degree. Whether such a 
detailed classification has merit sufficient to justify its complexity 
must be left to the individual reader to determine. It may, 
however, with justice be said that the author has spared no pains 
to illustrate by case reports the various phases of traumatic dis- 
order which he enumerates. He has a keen sense of the signif- 
icance of psychiatric knowledge in a proper understanding of the 
various results of trauma, and lays special stress upon the breadth 
of the psychiatric field, under which he properly enough includes 
the various so-called psychoneuroses as well as epilepsy, tics and 
aphasia. He believes that one may only arrive at a diagnostic 
criterion of such affections through the sensations and emotions 
expressed by the patients. The somatic phenomena he regards 
as always subordinate and accessory. Under this point of view, 

Reviews 75 

he attacks his problem, and with considerable success- An 
admirable brief historical review of traumatism in relation to the 
nervous system constitutes a valuable section of the book, in 
which he brings out the conflicting views which have prevailed 
since the earlier work of Erichsen down through the fundamental 
investigations of Westphal, Chare , Knapp, Oppenheim and 
others. - -' 

The author finds fault with the common use of the word 
traumatism in the sense of trauma, and correctly draws attention 
to the fact that traumatism should express a general condition, 
whereas, trauma should be used as indicative of a local lesion. 
This distinction has been too often overlooked, with resulting 

In general, the book represents a vast amount of painstaking 
thought and an earnest but somewhat confusing attempt to bring 
light into the somewhat dark places of a much-discussed subject, 
which has frequently been the source of more or less acrimonious 
discussion. Not the least significant part of the volume is the 
constant reference to the legal implications of the traumatic 
affections. It should therefore be useful, not only to the physician, 
but also to the legal profession. It will doubtless be used rather 
as a book of reference than as a readable treatise. 


VERBRECHERTYPEN. 1 Heft, Geliebtenmorder von Albrecht 
Wetzel und Karl Wilraanns. Verlag Julius Springer, Berlin: 

With a better understanding of psychopathic phenomena, 
the underlying psychology of criminology becomes more clearly 
defined. Maladjustment may express itself in an insane outbreak, 
criminal act, or in an anti-social deed, indeed, in all of them the 
underlying phenomenon 'is a psychopathic condition which comes 
under the realm of abnormal psychology. The large group of 
criminals should not be looked upon as a homogenous class, but 
the individuality of criminal and the type of the delinquent act 
in reaction to his heredity, mental make-up and environmental 
influences should be fully considered. Herein lies the great value 
of Wetzel's and Willmann's Monograph these authors report 
three cases in which criminal acts were attributed to abnormal 
mental life. 

The first case was that of a young man of twenty-three, who 
showed a psychopathic personality with tainted heredity on the 

76 Reviews 

paternal side. He was subject to convulsive attacks, which were 
regarded as hysterical and not epileptic. In his intelligence he was 
above the average. He was engaged to a young woman, and 
because she refused to marry him, he at first contemplated to take 
his life, but later shot at her three times without injuring her, and 
then made an unsuccessful attempt at suicide. His delinquent 
act was determined not only by his environment, but also by 
his peculiar type of personality, which was taken into considera- 
tion by the court, and on this ground he was acquitted. 

In the second case, a young man of twenty shot his fiancee 
through the temporal region, injuring her severely. Soon after 
committing this act he surrendered himself to the police. He 
also showed striking evidences of a psychopathic personality with 
a strong suggestion of epilepsy, but with intact intelligence. He 
was given to periods of depression and was unstable mentally. 
He was easily suggestible and his general conduct was not only 
controlled by environmental influences, but also by his mood. 
Suicidal ideas and jealousy played a very important role in his 
mental life; especially they were marked when he began to keep 
company with the young woman. Although his abnormal con- 
stitution was taken into account, nevertheless he was punished 
by one year's imprisonment. During confinement he attempted 
suicide, but was unsuccessful. Some time after his release he 
committed suicide, the cause of which he assigned to an abortion 
that was induced by his sweetheart. 

The third case is very interesting and rather intricate, by 
reason of the fact that murder or double suicide was suspected. 
The following are the details of this case: A young man of 
eighteen kept company with a young woman about the same age, 
from another town. The girls of the town were jealous of her and 
began to gossip about her to the extent of casting aspersions upon 
her character, etc. The young man's father, without investigating 
this case, forbade his son to marry her. However, the two lovers 
would have frequent secret rendezvous, and his fiancee became 
depressed over this scandalous and groundless rumor and also 
because of the peculiar attitude her young man's father assumed. 
One evening the young man returned home late, and upon con- 
fessing to his father of his secret meetings with his fiancee, he was 
severely beaten and prohibited to see her again. 

A few days later the young man wrote a letter to his sweet- 
heart, telling her of his father's emphatic determinations, but 
soon they met again and she suggested that they should die to- 
gether on account of this gossip that -was circulated about her. 
A day following this meeting both of them were missed, and afte r 

Reviews 77 

some search the young woman was found lying on the ground 
with two shots in her head and one in the breast, and the young 
man was hanging from a tree, in a near-by wood; the latter was 
resuscitated, but the former was dead. It is interesting to note 
that the autopsy showed that death in her case was due to strangu- 
lation and not to the bullets. This young man was endowed with 
a psychopathic personality, and there was a history of short 
attacks of depression. He received several head traumata and 
suffered from enuresis in his early life. 

Following the resuscitation, he grew confused and excited, 
and within twenty-four hours he recovered from the acute episode, 
but showed incomplete amnesia for his act. He stated that he 
remembered firing the shots, but had no remembrance of strangu- 
lating her. Soon after this he passed into a peculiar state of 
confusion; in addition., fabrications and retention defect were also 
demonstrated. The cerebrospinal fluid revealed some abnormal 
changes which were suggestive of an organic brain disease. The 
Wassermann test was negative. Finally, he made a complete 
recovery except for the incomplete amnesia. 

Since the death of the young woman was caused by strangu- 
lation, the question had to be decided whether he was the cause of 
her death or she died as the result of her own hand. The court 
favored suicide, and held that the bodily injury was inflicted with 
the pistol by the young man. He received a lenient sentence 
only nine months imprisonment. In this case, the type of his 
personality, and all the circumstances that led to the development 
of the act were taken into consideration. 

Although the authors presented this subject purely objectively, 
yet their studies are extremely interesting and important, and 
show conclusively the importance of psychopathological methods in 
criminology. One who is interested in this subject will find 
this monograph of great value and help. It may also be added 
that the authors give a complete list of the casuistic literature of 
the murder among lovers. 


PHY OF EVOLUTION. By L. T. Hobhouse, Martin White Professor 
of Sociology in the University of London. Macmillan & Co., Lon- 
don: 1913; pp. xxix, 383. 

" Development and Purpose 35 is essentially the complement 
of Professor Hobhouse^s well-known and valuable "Mind in 

78 Reviews 

Evolution," published in 1901; if it were rather a continuation 
than the complement, many would be pleased, for the exposition 
already made practically guarantees a rich application, were it 
undertaken, to matters still further cc away" in the realm of thought. 
The present volume lacks the multitude of scientific data and 
references "which make "Mind in Evolution* 3 so important for 
the study of psychology (as behavior or not as behavior, as the 
reader pleases), but it contains in their space many timely dis- 
cussions, in some cases seemingly prophetic, of teleology in its 
relation to evolution. 

The seventeen chapters of the book (there is also an extremely 
thoughtful Introduction and a full Index), are divided into two 
parts, one entitled " Lines of Development " and the other "The 
Conditions of Development." The reviewer's lazy cortex, and 
possibly those of other and more leisurely readers, is made glad 
by a complete chapter-synopsis or syllabus, occupying seven 
pages. So much of the whole treatise is suggested in the synopsis 
of the first three chapters that it is well to give them in full, as 
follows : 

"I. The Nature and the Significance of Mental Evolution. 

(1) The biological view regards Mind as an organ evolved to adapt 
behavior to the environment, (2) and tends to reduce its action to 
a mechanical process. (3) Parallelism in the end reduces Mind 
to an epi-phenomenon] an important undoubted fact which has 
been often ignored by what are left of the Parallelists!] (4) The 
object of Comparative Psychology is to determine empirically the 
actual function of Mind in successive stages of development. 
(5) It involves a social as well as an individual psychology. (6) 
The statement of the higher phases also opens up philosophical 
questions, (7) and on the solution of these depends the final 
interpretation of the recorded movement. 

"II. The Structure of Mind. (1) Mental operations are 
known in the first instance as objects of consciousness. (2) Mind 
is the permanent unity including consciousness and the sum of 
processes continuous with consciousness and determining it. 
(3) These processes involve, but are not identical with physical 
processes, constituting with them a psychophysical unity. 

"III. The General Function of Mind and Brain. (1) The 
generic function of Mind, as of the nervous system, is correlation. 

(2) The special organ for effecting fresh correlation is conscious- 
ness. (3) The deliverances of consciousness arise from stimuli 
acting upon structures built up by experience, (4) on foundations 
laid by heredity, (5) which supplies not only specific adaptations, 
but a background to the entire life of consciousness." 

Reviews 79 

It would be hard to find a more concise, complete, and timely 
formularization of the seeming- trend of present resultants in this 
particular direction than these sentences set forth for whomsoever 
will ponder each carefully-built statement and really understand 
what it means as part of a system, "Mind is the permanent unity 
including consciousness and the sum of processes continuous with 
consciousness and determining it. These processes involve, but 
are not identical with, physical processes, constituting with them a 
psychophysical unity," this quotation might almost serve 
as the motto of early Twentieth Century scientific philosophy. It 
seems to the present reviewer to have almost as much philosophy 
in it as Harold HofTding's well-known sentence has of psychology: 
("the unity of mental life has its expression not only in memory 
and synthesis, but also in a dominant fundamental feeling, char- 
acterized by the contrast between pleasure and pain, and in an 
impulse, springing from this fundamental feeling, to movement 
and activity "). It might be the creed of the ISTeoidealism. 

Hobhouse's discussion of mechanism in relation to teleology 
and to the universal harmony and reality is fairly representative 
of the drift of thought as set forth by recent English and French 
writers such as J. S- Haldane, Oliver Lodge and some of the promi- 
nent biologists, and by Henri Bergson: "An organic whole is 
therefore like a machine in being purposive, though unlike it 
in that its purpose is within." "A purposive process is one de- 
termined by its tendency to produce a certain result, purpose 
itself being an act [sic] determined in its character by that which 
it tends to bring about. As such it diifers fundamentally from a 
mechanical cause." "The empirical and philosophical arguments 
point to the same general conclusion, that reality is the process of 
the development of Mind.' 3 As a guide to one's thinking, and as 
integrators of one's subconscious intuitions and resultants, such 
concise formulae certainly have much value, especially when, as 
here, clearly and ably expounded in the text proper. 
Tufts College. GEORGE V. 1ST. DEARBORN, 


ABNORMAL PSYCHOLOGY. Isador H. Coriat. Pp. xvi and 428, 
2d Ed. Moffat, Yard & Co., 1914. $2.00 net. 

MENTAL MEDICINE & NURSING. Robert Howland Chase. Pp. 
xv and 244. J. B. Lippincott Co., 1914. 1.50. 

THE TEACHING OF DRAWING. S. Polak and H. C. Whilter. 
Pp. 168. Warwick & York, Inc. 85 cents. 

Ph.D., and David W.LaRue^ A. M., Ph.D. Pp. 24. Harvard Uni- 
versity Press, Cambridge, 1914. 

EROS. Emil Lucka. Pp. xx and 379. G. P. Putnam & Sons. 
1915. $1.75. 


Company, Philadelphia, 1915. 

263. Warwick & York, Inc. 40 cents. 

LIFE AND WORK OF PESTALOZZI. J . A. Green. Pp. 393. War- 
wick & York, Inc. 1.40. 


Wm. Stern. Translated by Guy Montrose Whipple. Pp. 160. 
Warwick & York. 1.25. 






F ^HE exact sciences consist of a body of truth which 
I all accept, and to which all experts strive to con- 

1 tribute. Philosophy, however, like religion, has 

always been broken into sects, schools or parties, 
and the body of truth which all accept in these fields is rela- 
tively far less, and the antagonistic views far greater. Nor- 
mal psychology, which a few decades ago, started out to be 
scientific with the good old ideal of a body of truth semper 
ubique et ad omnibus, is already splitting into introspection- 
ists, behaviorists, genetic, philosophical and other groups, 
while in the new Freudian movement, Adler and Jung are 
becoming sectaries, the former drawing upon himself the 
most impolitic and almost vituperative condemnation of 
the father of psychoanalysis. With this latter schism we 
are not here concerned, but we are deeply concerned with 
the more general relations between the psychologists of the 
normal and those of the abnormal; with a very few negligible 
exceptions psychoanalysii has hardly ever had a place on 
the program of our Ameru an Psychological Association, and 
the normal has had little representation in your meetings and 
publications. This I deem unfortunate for both, for unsat- 
isfactory as this sadly needed rapprochement is on the con- 
tinent, it is far more so here. That the normalists in 
this country so persistently ignore the unique opportunity 
to extend their purview into the psychopathological domain 
at the unique psychological moment that the development 
of Freudianism has offered, is to me a matter of sad disap- 
pointment and almost depression. In reading a plea for 

*Read at a meeting of the American Psychopathological Association, New 
York City, May 5, 1915. 


82 Anger as a Primary Emotion 

Freud In our association of normalists, I am a vox clamantis in 
deserto and can evoke no response, and even the incursions 
of psychoanalysis into the domain of biography, myth, 
religion and dreams, have not evoked a single attempt at 
appreciation or criticism worthy of mention by any American 
psychologist of the normal. I have sought in various ways 
the causes of this reticence, not to say ignorance. While I 
received various answers, the chief one was to the effect 
that the alleged hypertrophy of sex in its gross pathological 
forms, and the conviction of the kind and degree of sex con- 
sciousness found in the many hundreds of analyzed cases, 
are so unique and constitute the very essence of the neurotic 
and psychotic cases, and conscious and unconscious sex 
factors are slight or absent in most normal cases, that these 
patients and their doctors alike are sex-intoxicated, and 
that the Freudian psychology applies only to perverts and 
erotomania or other abnormal cases. To ascribe all this 
aversion to social or ethical repression is both shallow and 
banousic, for the real causes are both manifold and deeper. 
They are part of a complicated protest of normality, found 
in all and even in the resistance of subjects of analysis, which 
is really a factor which is basal for self-control of the varying 
good sides of which Freudians tell us nothing. The fact is 
that there are other things in the human psyche than sex, 
and its ramifications. Hunger, despite Jung, fear despite 
Sadger, and anger despite Freud, are just as primary, ab- 
original and independent as sex, and we fly in the face of 
fact arid psychic experience to derive them all from sex, 
although it is freely granted that in morbid cases each may 
take on predominant sex features. In what follows I can 
only very briefly hint at the way in which some of the Freudi- 
an mechanisms are applied to one of the emotions, viz., anger. 
Anger in most of its forms is the most dynamogenic of 
all the emotions. In paroxysms of rage with abandon we 
stop at nothing short of death and even mutilation. The 
Malay running amuck, Orlando Furioso, the epic of the 
wrath of Achilles, hell-fire, which is an expression of divine 
wrath, are some illustrations of its power. Savages work 
themselves into frenzied rage in order to fight their enemies. 
In many descriptions of its brutal aspects, which I have col- 

G. Stanley Hall 83 

lected, children and older human brutes spit, hiss, yell, snarl, 
bite noses and ears, scratch, gouge out eyes, pull hair, muti- 
late sex organs, with a violence that sometimes takes on 
epileptic features and which in a number of recorded cases 
causes sudden death at its acme, from the strain it imposes 
upon the system. Its cause is always some form of thwart- 
ing wish or will or of reduction of self-feeling, as anger is the 
acme of self-assertion. The German criminalist, Friedrich, 
says that probably every man might be caused to commit 
murder if provocation were sufficient, and that those of us 
who have never committed this crime owe it to circumstances 
and not to superior power of inhibition. Of course it may be 
associated with sex but probably no human experience is 
fier se more diametrically opposite to sex. Some tempera- 
ments seem to crave, if not need, outbreaks of it at certain 
intervals, like a well-poised lady, so sweet-tempered that 
everybody imposed on her, till one day at the age of twenty- 
three she had her first ebullition of temper and went about to 
her college mates telling them plainly what she thought of 
them, and went home rested and happy, full of the peace 
that passeth understanding. Otto Heinze, and by implica- 
tion Pfister, think nations that have too long or too assidu- 
ously cultivated peace must inevitably sooner or later re- 
lapse to the barbarisms -of war to vent their instincts for 
combat, and Crile thinks anger most sthenic, while Cannon 
says it is the emotion into which most others tend to pass- 
It has of course been a mighty agent in evolution, for those 
who can summate all their energies in attack have survived. 
But few if any impulsions of man, certainly not sex, have 
suffered more intense, prolonged or manifold repressions* 
Courts and law have taken vengeance into their hands or 
tried to, and not only a large proportion of assaults, but 
other crimes, are still due to explosions of temper, and it 
may be a factor in nearly every court case. Society frowns 
on it, and Lord Chesterfield says the one sure and unfailing 
mark of a gentleman is that he never shows temper. Its 
manifestations are severely tabooed in home and school. 
Religion teaches us not to let the sun go down upon our 
wrath and even to turn the other cheek, sd"that we go through 
life chronically afraid that we shall break out, let ourselves 

84 Anger as a Primary Emotion 

go, or get thoroughly mad, so that the moment we begin to 
feel a rising tide of indignation or resentment (in the nomen- 
clature of which our language is so very rich, Chamberlain 
having collected scores of English expressions of it), the 
censorship begins to check it. In many cases in our returns 
-repression is so potent from long practice, that the sweetest 
smile, the kindest remarks or even deeds are used either to 
veil it to others, or to evict it from our own consciousness, 
or else as a self-inflicted penance for feeling it, while in 'some 
tender consciences its checked but persistent vestiges may 
become centers of morbid complexes and in yet other cases 
it burrows and proliferates more or less unconsciously, and 
finds secret and circuitous ways of indulgence which only 
psychoanalysis or a moral or religious confessional could, 

I. Anger has many modes of Verschiebung^ both instinc- 
tive and cultivated. One case in our returns carries a bit of 
wood in his vest-pocket and bites it when he begins to feel 
the aura of temper. Girls often play the piano loudly, and 
some think best of all. One plays a particular piece to 
divert anger, viz., the "Devil's Sonata. " A man goes down 
cellar and saws -wood, which he keeps for such occasions, A 
boy pounds a resonant eavespout. One throws a heavy 
stone against a white rock. Many go off by themselves and 
indulge in the luxury of expressions they want none to hear. 
Others take out their tantrum on the dog or cat or perhaps a 
younger child, or implicate some absent enemy, while others 
curse. A few wound themselves, and so on, till it ajmost 
seems, in view of this long list of vicariates, as if almost any 
attack, psychic or physical, might thus be intensified, and 
almost anything or person be made the object of passion. 
Be it remembered, too, that not a few look, do, think, feel 
their best under this impulsion. 

II. Besides these modes oiAhreagierung there are count- 
less forms of sublimation. In anger a boy says : I will avenge 
myself on the bully who whipped me and whom I cannot or 
will not whip, by besting him in his studies, class-work, 
composition, or learn skilful stunts that he cannot do, dress, 
or behave better, use better language, keep better company, 
and thus find my triumph and revenge. A man rejected or 

G. Stanley Hall 85 

scorned by a woman sometimes makes a great man of him- 
self, "with the motivation more or less developed to make 
her sorry or humiliated. Anger may prompt a man to go in 
to win his enemy's girl. A taunt or an insult sometimes 
spurs the victim of it to towering ambition to show the 
world and especially the abuser better, and to be able to 
despise him in return; and there are those who have been 
thus stung to attempt greatness and find the sweetest joy 
of success in the feeling that by attaining it they com- 
pensate for indignities they suffered in youth. In fact, 
when we analyze ambition and the horror of ^linderwertig- 
keit that goes with it, we shall doubtless find this factor is 
never entirely absent, while if we were to apply the same 
pertinacity and subtlety that Jung in his *' Wandlungen" 
has brought to bear in working over the treacherous material 
of mythology, we might prove with no less verisimilitude 
than he has shown the primacy of the libido that in the 
beginning was anger, and that not Anaxagoras' love or the 
strife of Heraclitus was the f cms et origo of all things, that the 
Ichtrieb is basal, and that the fondest and most comprehen- 
sive of all motives is that to excel others, not merely to sur- 
vive, but to win a larger place in the sun, and that there is 
some connection between the Darwinian psychogenesis and 
Max Stirner and Nietzsche, which Adler has best evaluated. 
III. Anger has also its dreams and reveries. When 
wronged the imagination riots in fancied humiliation and 
even tortures of an enemy. An object of hate may be put 
through almost every conceivable series of degradation, 
ridicule, exposure and disgrace. He is seen by others for 
what our hate deems him to be. All disguises are stripped 
off. Children sometimes fancy a hated object of anger 
flogged until he is raw, abandoned by all his friends, an out- 
cast, homeless, alone, in the dark, starving, exposed to wild 
animals, and far more often more prosaic fancies conceive 
him as "whipped by a parent or stronger friend, or by the 
victim himself later. Very clever strategies are thought out 
in detail by which the weaker gets even with or vanquishes 
the stronger, and one who suffers a rankling sense of injustice 
can hardly help day-dreaming of some form of comeuppance 
for his foe, although it takes years to do it. In these reveries 

86 Anger as a Primary Emotion 

the injurer in the end almost always gives up and sues for 
mercy at the feet of his quondam victim. So weird and 
dramatic are these scenes often that to some minds we must 
call anger and hate the chief springs of the imagination. A 
pubescent girl who was deeply offended went off by herself 
and held an imaginary funeral of her enemy, hearing in fancy 
the disparaging remarks of the bystanders, and when it was 
all over and the reaction came, she made up with the object 
of her passion by being unusually sweet to her and even be- 
came solicitous about her health as fearing that her revery 
might come true. We all too remember Tolstoi's reminis- 
cences when, having been flogged by his tutor, he slunk off 
to the attic, weeping and broken-hearted, and finally after a 
long brooding resolved to run away and become a soldier, 
and this he did in fancy, becoming corporal, lieutenant, 
captain, colonel. Finally came a great battle where he led 
a desperate charge that was crowned with victory, and when 
all was over and he stood tottering, leaning on his sword, 
bloody and with many a wound, and the great Czar of all 
the Russias approached, saluted him as saviour of his 
fatherland and told him to ask whatever he wanted and it 
was his, replied magnanimously that he had only done his 
duty and wanted no reward. All he asked was that his 
tutor might be brought up and his head cut off. Then the 
scene changed to other situations, each very different, florid 
with details, but motivated by ending in the discomfiture of 
the tutor. In the ebb or ambivalent reaction of this passion 
he and the tutor got on better. 

IV. Richardson has collected 882 cases of mild anger, 
introspected by graduate students of psychology, and finds not 
only over-determination, anger fetishes and occasionally 
anger in dreams with patent and latent aspects and about 
all the Freudian mechanisms, but what is more important, 
finds very much of the impulsion that makes us work anc 
strive, attack and solve problems has an element of anger a" 
its root. Life is a battle and for every real conquest mar 
has had to summate and focus all his energies, so that ange 
is the acme of the manifestation of Schopenhauer's will t< 
live, achieve and excel. Hiram Stanley rather absurdb 
described it as an epoch when primitive man first bee am 

G. Stanley Hall 87 

angry and fought, overcoming the great quaternary carni- 
vora and made himself the lord of creation. Plato said 
anger was the basis of the state, Ribot made it the establisher 
of justice in the world, and Bergson thinks society rests on 
anger at vice and crime, while Stekel thinks that temper 
qualities should henceforth be treated in every biography 
and explored in every case that is psychoanalyzed. Hill's 
experiments with pugilism, and Cannon's plea for athletics 
as a legitimate surrogate for war in place of James' moral 
substitute, Frank Howard's opinion that an impulse that 
Darwin finds as early as the sixth week and hardly any 
student of childhood later than the sixth month, and which 
should not be repressed but developed to its uttermost, al- 
though carefully directed to worthy objects, are all in point. 
Howard pleads for judicious scolding and flogging, to be 
done in heat and not in cold blood, and says that there is 
enough anger in the world, were it only rightly directed, 
to sweep away all the evils in it. In all these phenomena 
there is no trace of sex or any of its symbols, and sadism 
can never explain but must be explained by it. My thesis 
is, then, that every Freudian mechanism applies to anger as 
truly as it does to sex. This by no means assumes the 
fundamental identity of every feeling-emotion in the sense 
of Weissfeld's very speculative theory. 

In this very slight paper I am only trying to make the 
single point which I think fear and sympathy or the gregari- 
ous or social instinct would still better illustrate, although 
it would require more time, that the movement inaugurated 
by Freud opens up a far larger field than that of sex. The 
unconscious that introspectionists deny, (asserting that all 
phenomena ascribed to it are only plain neural mechanisms, 
and therefore outside the realm of psychology,) the feelings 
which introspection can confessedly never tell much about 
and concerning which our text-books in psychology still say 
so little: studies in these fields are marking a new epoch, and 
here the chief merit of Freudism is found. 



SOME years ago, at the Weimar Congress of the Inter- 
national Psychoanalytic Association,, I read a paper 
on the importance of a knowledge of philosophy and 
metaphysics for psychoanalysts regarded as students 
of human life. Perhaps if I had had the experience and 
ability to contribute the results of some original analytic 
investigation on specific lines, I should not then have ven- 
tured into the philosophic field. Perhaps, indeed, if those 
conditions now obtained I should not be bringing forward 
similar arguments again, and if any one feels tempted to 
maintain that philosophic speculation is a camp of refuge 
for those who, in consequence of temperamental limitations 
and infantile fixations which ought to be overcome, draw back 
from the more robust study of emotional repressions on 
scientific lines, I should admit that the allegation contains 
an element of truth. But in spite of this, and in spite of the 
fact that there is some truth also in the statement that the 
effects good and bad of emotional repression make them- 
selves felt, as a partial influence, in all the highest reaches 
of human endeavor, including art, literature, and religion; 
in spite of these partial truths, philosophy and metaphysics 
are the only means through which the essential nature of 
many tendencies can be studied of which psychoanalysis 
describes only the transformations. And this being so it is 
perhaps reasonable that one paper should be read at an 
annual meeting such as this, where men assemble whose duty 
it is to study the human mind in all its aspects. 

I presume that just as, and just because men have 
minds and bodies, an evolutional history in the ordinary 
sense and a mental history in a sense not commonly con- 
sidered, so there will always be two, or perhaps three, parties 
A among psychologists and men of science, and each one, in so 
$far as it is limited in its vision, may be considered as abnor- 
, if one will. I decline, however, to admit that the 


James J. Putnam 89 

temperamental peculiarities of one group are more in need 
either of justification or o rectification through psycho- 
analysis than those of the others. It is probably true that 
emotional tension often plays a larger part among persons 
who love a priori reasoning the "tender-minded" of Dr. 
James than it does in those who work through observation; 
but on the other hand exclusively empirical attitude has its 
limitations and its dangers. Philosophy and metaphysics 
deal more distinctively with essential function, that is, 
with real existence, while natural science and the genetic 
psychology (of which psychoanalysis, strictly speaking, is a 
branch) deal rather with appearances and with structure. 
Both are in need of investigation. The form which art, 
religion, and literature assume is determined by men's 
personal experiences and special cravings. The essential 
motive of art and religion is, however, the dim recognition 
by men of their relation to the creative spirit of the universe. 

No one can doubt that function logically precedes 
structure; or if any one does doubt this, he need only observe 
his own experience and see how in every new acquisition of 
knowledge or of power there come, first, the thought, the 
idea, then the effort, next the habit, and finally the modifica- 
tion of cerebral mechanism, in which the effort and the habit 
become represented in relatively permanent and static form. 
In fact, the crux of the whole discussion between science and 
metaphysics turns on, or harks back to the discussion be- 
tween function and structure; and it is the latter, in the 
sense in which I mean the word, that has had of late a too 
large share of our attention. 

The enterprise on which we are all of us embarked, 
whether we define it as an investigation, pure and simple, 
into human nature and human motives, or as a therapeutic 
attempt to relieve invalids of their symptoms, is a larger 
one than it is commonly conceived of as being. Each physi- 
cian and each investigator has, indeed, the right to say that 
for practical reasons he prefers to confine his attention to 
some single portion of one or the other of these tasks, be it 
never so small. But each one should regard himself as 
virtually under an obligation to recognize the respects in 
which this chosen task is incomplete. Every physicist is 

90 Tke Necessity of Metaphysics 

aware that there is some form of energy underlying, or rather 
expressing itself in, light and heat and gravitation. Physi- 
cists do not study this form of energy, not because they do 
not wish to but simply because they cannot do so by the 
only methods that they are allowed to use. But, as a re- 
action of defense, they sometimes assert that no one else can 
do so either, that this underlying energy cannot be explained. 
To say this is, however, in my judgment, to misappreciatc 
what an explanation is. 

To explain any matter is to discover the points of 
similarity, or virtual identity, between the matter studied 
and ourselves. But in order to do this thoroughly, or rather 
in order to do it with relation to the essential nature of some 
form of energy (the " Libido, " for example, considered as 
an unpicturable force) one must first consider what we, the 
investigators, are, not at our less good, but at our best. It 
is with us, as given, with our best qualities regarded as 
defining in part the Q. E. D. of the experiment, that the 
investigation must begin. The nature of any and every 
form of real underlying energy or essence must be defined 
in terms of our' sense of our own will and freedom. And 
this means that we must conceive and describe ourselves, 
and expect to conceive and to describe the powers that ani- 
mate us, no longer as a system of forces subject to the so- 
called laws of nature (which are, in reality, not immutabl.e) 
but as relatively free, creative agents; no longer as the prod- 
uct of the interplay of instincts, but as individuals possessed 
of real reason, real power of love and real self-consistent will. 
To claim to study the effects of the " Libido, " to which we 
ascribe the vast powers with which we are familiar, yet fail 
to seek in it what would correspond to our own best attri- 
butes, would be to lay aside our duties as students of human 
nature. It would be to confine our attention to the "struc- 
ture" of the mind, the farm under which it manifests itself, 
without having studied the laws of its action under conditions 
which are more favorable to its development. 

It must, now, have struck students of psychoanalytic 
literature that a marked tendency has been shown toward 
"supplementing the study of structure, that is, the detailed 
history of men's experiences and evolution, rega.rded as 

James J. Pittnam ' 91 

sequences of phenomena, by the study of the function or 
creative energy for "which the experiences stand. Silberer, 
whose work is endorsed by Freud, has gone to a considerable 
length in this direction; and the whole tendency of Freud's 
insistence on the relevancy, in the mental sphere, of the law 
of the conservation of energy has been a movement, though, 
I think, a narrow one, in this direction. More recently, Jung 
has emphasized the importance of this tendency, and has 
dwelt more strongly, as I think, than the facts warrant, 
on the supposed unwillingness of Freud to recognize its 

Behind the experiences of childhood, for example, lie 
the temperamental trends of childhood, and it is these with 
which we really need to get acquainted; for these trends, if 
not the whole causes and equivalents of the experiences which 
are recounted to us by our patients, constitute the conditions 
without which the latter would not have been what they 

But Jung himself, strangely enough, in both of his care- 
fully prepared arguments, specifically rejects all intention of 
dealing "metaphysically" with this theme, in spite of the 
fact that every movement toward a fuller recognition of 
creative energy is nothing less than metaphysics, even though 
not in name. 

The skilled observer, scrutinizing the motives and 
peering into the history of the person whose traits and trends 
he is called on to investigate, must see, in imagination, not 
only a vast host of acts, but also a vast network of inter- 
secting lines of energy of which the casual observer, and 
even the intimate friend, may be wholly unaware. We call 
these lines of energy by many special names, "Libido" or 
"Urlibido, " first of all, then love and hate and jealousy, and 
so on. 

What are these lines of energy, and how can we study 
them to the best purpose? Obviously they are incomplete 
editions of the love and reason and will the laws of which 
we can study to best advantage in ourselves and in men 
where they are displayed in their best, that is, in their most 
constructive form. To make such studies is to recognize 
metaphysics, but instead of doing of doing this tacitly and 

92 The Necessity of Metaphysics 

implicitly we should do it openly and explicitly. 

The study of human nature should, in short, begin at 
the top, rather than at the bottom; just as, if one had to 
choose what phase of a symphony one would choose in order 
to get an idea of its perfection, one would take some cul- 
minating moment rather than the first few notes simply 
because they were the -first. To be accurate, one could not 
do justice to the symphony except by studying it as a whole, 
and similarly one should study the man as a whole, including 
his relations to the universe as a whole. It is as wholes that 
great poets conceived of their poems and great artists of 
their pictures, and it is as a whole that each and every human 
life, standing as it does as the representative of the body of 
the universe,, and the spirit of the universe, on the other, 
should implicitly be viewed. 

The psychologist should sympathize deeply with the 
anatomist and the physiologist and the student of cerebral 
pathology, but equally deeply with the philosopher and the 
metaphysician who study the implications, present alth: ugh 
hidden, that point to the bonds between the individual and 
the universe. To fail to recognize that these bonds exist, as 
is done when the attempt is made to study human beings as 
if they were really and exclusively the product of their 
historic past conceived of in an organic sense, would be to 
try to build one-half of an arch and expect it to endure. 
The truth is, we do not, in my opinion, genuinely believe 
that a human is nothing but the product of his organic past, 
or the product of his experience. 

We believe, by implication, in our metaphysical selves 
and our corresponding obligations, more strongly than we 
have taught ourselves to recognize. But to this fact we 
make ourselves blind through a species of repression, just as 
many a child, confident of its parents 7 affection, assumes, 
for his own temporary purposes, the right to accuse them of 
hostile intentions which they do not entertain. 

We forget, or repress, the fact that the mind of man 
cannot be made subject to the laws of physics, and yet we 
proceed to deal with the phenomena dependent on the work- 
ing of the mind of man as if these laws actually did prevail. 

The misleading effects of this tendency are clearly seen 

James J. Putnam 93 

where it is a question of the conclusions to be drawn from 
the researches, admirable in themselves, made under th^ 
influence of the genetic method. 

The notion seems to prevail that we should prepare 
ourselves for the formation of just ideas with regard to the 
mode in which the higher faculties of men come into existence 
by wiping the slate clean to the extent of assuming that we 
have before us no data except some few acts or thoughts that 
are definable in the simplest possible terins, and then watch- 
ing what happens as the situation becomes more complicated. 
But one is apt to forget, in doing tliis, that there is one thing 
which we cannot wipe off the s l a te, namely, ourselves, 
not taken in the Bergsonian se nse alone, but as fully fledged 
persons, possessed of the ve^y qualities for which we under- 
take to search, yet without the possession of which the 
search could not begiTi; This does not, of course, militate 
against the value o^- these genetic researches in one sense. 
The study of evc^-Qtional sequences is still, and forever will 
be, of enormous" va lue. But it does not teach us nearly as 
EHuezHT 61 "the nature of real creativeness as we can learn 
"Through the introspection of ourselves in the fullest sense; 
\ I 'maintain that psychoanalysts are persons who could 
: this to advantage. 

If, not the notion that through the careful watching of 
"C?.e sequences of the evolutionary process, as if from without, 
* can get an adequate idea of the forces that really are at 
A ork, exactly the delusion by which the skillful juggler tries 
:c > deceive his audience when he directs their attention to the 
lifting objects that he manipulates, and away from his own 
31 viftly moving hands ? 

My contention is that there are other means of study- 
ing the force which we call "Libido" besides that of noting 
its effects. The justification for this statement is that the 
force itself is identical, in the last analysis, with that which 
we feel within ourselves and know as reason, as imagination, 
and as will, conscious of themselves, and capable of giving 
to us, directly or indirectly, the only evidence we could ever 
hope to get, for the existence of real creativeness, spontaneity 
and freedom. 

Every work of art, worthy of the name, gives evidence 

sequences of phenomena, by the study of the function or 
creative energy for which the experiences stand. Silberer, 
whose work is endorsed by Freud, has gone to a considerable 
length in this direction; and the whole tendency of Freud's 
insistence on the relevancy, in the mental sphere, of the law 
of the conservation of energy has been a movement, though, 
I think, a narrow one, in this direction. More recently, Jung 
has emphasized the importance of this tendency, and has 
dwelt more strongly, as I think, than the facts warrant, 
on the supposed unwillingness of Freud to recognize its 

Behind the experiences of childhood, for example, lie 
the temperamental trends of childhood, and it is these with 
which we really need to get acquainted; for these trends, if 
not the whole causes and equivalents of the experiences which 
are recounted to us by our patients, constitute the conditions 
without which the latter would not have been what they 

But Jung himself, strangely enough, in both of his care- 
fully prepared arguments, specifically rejects all intention of 
dealing "metaphysically" with this theme, in spite of the 
fact that every movement toward a fuller recognition of 
creative energy is nothing less than metaphysics, even though 
not in name. 

The skilled observer, scrutinizing the motives and 
peering into the history of the person whose traits and trends 
he is called on to investigate, must see, in imagination, not 
only a vast host of acts, but also a vast network of inter- 
secting lines of energy of which the casual observer, and 
even the intimate friend, may be wholly unaware. We call 
these lines' of energy by many special names, "Libido" or 
"Urlibido," first of all, then love and hate and jealousy, and 
so on. 

What are these lines of energy, and how can we study 
them to the best purpose? Obviously they are incomplete 
editions of the love and reason and will the laws of which 
we can study to best advantage in ourselves and in men 
where they are displayed in their best, that is, in their most 
constructive form. To make such studies is to recognize 
metaphysics, but instead of doing of doing this tacitly and 

James J. Putnam 95 

has been made. -If, however, I am right in my contentior 
that the " Libido" is only one manifestation of an energy, 
greater than simply "vital/ 3 which can be studied to the 
best purpose only among men whose powers have been 
cultivated to the best advantage, then it will be seen that 
this conception of "Libido" as a force of definite amount 
is not justifiable by the facts. 

One does not find that love or reason is subject to this 
quantitative law. On the contrary, the persons whom most 
of us recognize as of the highest type do not love any given 
individual less because their love takes in another. The 
bond of love holds not only three, but an indefinite number. 
'. The same statement may be made with regard to reason 
and t will. The power and quantity of them are not ex- 
hausted but are increased by use. 

I maintain, then, that although the "Libido," in so far 
as it is regarded as an instinct, does not stand on the same 
footing with the reason and disinterested love of a person of 
high cultivation and large views, neither does it stand on the 
same footing with the physical energy that manifests itself 
in light and heat and gravitation. 

When we come to deal with man and any of his attri- 
butes, or as we find them at any age, we ought to look upon 
him, in my estimation, as animated in some measure by his 
self-foreshadowing best. And whether it is dreams with 
which we have to do, or neurotic conflicts, or wilfulness, or 
regression, we shall learn to see, more and more, as we become 
accustomed to look for evidences thereof, the signs of this 
sort. vf promise, just as we might hope to learn to find, more 
anymore, through the inspection of a lot of seeds of different 
plants, the evidences which would enable us to see the differ- 
ent outcomes which each one is destined to achieve, even 
though, at first, they all looked just alike. 

(2) The next point has reference to "sublimation." 
This outcome of individual evolution, as defined by Freud, 
has a strictly social, not an ethical, meaning. Jung also, in 
the interesting paper referred to, in his description of the 
rational aims of psychoanalysis, makes sublimation (though 
he does not there use the word) the equivalent of a sub- 
jective sense of well '^^^-g^-combined with the maximum of 
biologic effectiveness. 

g6 The Necessity of Metaphysics 

"Die Psychoanalyse soil eine biologische Methode sein,, 
welche das hoechste subjektive Wohlbefinden mit der wert- 
wollsten biologischen Leistung zu vereinigen sucht. " 

But in my opinion, while it may be true that the psycho- 
analyst may often have reason to be thankful if he can 
claim a therapeutic outcome of this sort, the logical goal of a 
psychoanalytic treatment is not covered by the securing of a 
relative freedom from subjective distress, even when com- 
bined with the satisfactory fulfillment of one's biologic mis- 
sion. A man has higher destinies than this, and the sense 
of incompleteness felt by the neurotic patient, -which was 
emphasized by Janet and is recognized by us all, must be 
more or less painfully felt by every man whose conscience 
does not assure him that he is really working for an end 
greater than that here specified. The logical end of a 
psychoanalytic treatment is the recovery of a full sense of 
one's highest destiny and origin and of the bearings and 
meanings of one's life. 

On similar grounds I think that the conflicts to which 
all men find themselves subjected, must be considered, in the 
last -analysis, as conflicts of an ethical description. For it is 
only in ethical terms that one can define one's relation to the 
universe regarded as a whole, just as it is only in ethical terms 
that a man could describe his sense of obligation to support 
the dignity of fine family traditions or the ideals represented 
by a team 'or a social group of which he felt reason to be 
proud. I realize that a man's sense of pride of his family,, 
his team, or his country may be a symptom of narcistic self- 
adulation; but like all such signs and symbols the symbol 
of the church tower, for example this is a case where two 
opposing meanings meet. 

Every act and motive of our lives, from infancy to age, 
is controlled by two sets of influences, the general nature of 
which has here been made sufficiently clear. They corre- 
spond on the one hand, to the numerous partial motives 
which psychoanalysis studies to great advantage, and on the 
other hand, to the ethical motives which are only thoroughly 
studied by philosophy. 

(3) Another conclusion, which seems to me practically 
of great importance, follows from this same view. Every 

James J. Putnam 97 

one who has studied carefully the life histories of patients, 
especially of children, and has endeavored in so doing to 
follow step by step the experiences through which they 
reach the various mile-stones on their journey, must have 
been astonished to observe the evidences of preparedness 
on their part for each new step in this long journey. Human 
beings seem predestined, as it were, not only in a physical 
but in a mental sense, for what is coming, and the indications 
of this in the mental field are greater than the conditions of 
organic evolution could readily account for. The transcend- 
ency of the mind over the brain shows itself here as elsewhere. 

We are told that our visions of the unpicturable, the 
ideal world, which our imagination paints and which our 
logical reasoning calls for as the necessary cap or final corol- 
lary to any finite world which our intelligence can actually 
define, that such visions are nothing but the pictures of 
infantile desires projected on to a great screen and made to 
mock us with the appearance of reality. 

I have nothing whatever to say against the value of the 
evidence that a portion of our visions are of this origin. In 
fact, I believe this as heartily as does any one. But I desire 
strenuously to oppose the view tacitly implied in the state- 
ment of the projection theory just cited, the acceptance of 
which as an exclusive doctrine would involve the virtual 
rejection of our right, as scientific men, to rely on the prin- 
ciple that the evidence afforded by logical presuppositions 
and logical inference is as cogent as that furnished through 

It is, in my opinion, just because we all belong to a world 
which is in outline not "in the making" but completed, 
because, in short, we are in one sense like heirs returning 
to our estates, that this remarkable preparedness of each 
child is found that impresses us so strongly. The universe 
is, in a sense, ours by prescriptive right and by virtue of the 
constitution of our minds. But the unity of such a universe 
must, of course, be of a sort that includes and indeed implies 
diversity and conflict as essential elements of its nature. 

Psychoanalysts should not make light of inferential 
forms of reasoning, for it is on this form of reasoning that 
the value of their own conclusions largely rests. We infer 

98 The Necessity of Metaphysics 

contrary meanings for words that are used ostensibly in 
sense, and we infer special conflicts in infancy of which we 
have but little evidence at hand, and cravings and passions 
of which it may be impossible to find more than a few traces 
by way of direct testimony. 

Our immediate environment and the world that sur- 
rounds us in that sense, appear to our observation, indeed, 
as "in the making." But besides the power of observation 
which enables, and indeed forces us to see the imperfection 
in this environmental world, we possess, or arc possessed by, 
a mental constitution which compels us, with still greater 
force, to the belief in a goal of positive perfection of which 
our nearer goals are nothing but the shadow. 

It is because I believe in the necessity of such reasoning 
as this that I am not prepared to accept the "Lust-Unlust" 
principle (that is, to use philosophical terms, the " hedonis- 
tic " principle) as representing the forces by which even the 
child is finally animated. Men. do not reach their best 
accomplishments, if indeed they reach any accomplishment, 
through the exclusive recognition, cither unconscious or 
instinctive, of a utilitarian result, or a result which can be 
couched in terms of pleasure or personal satisfaction as the 
goal of effort. They may state the goal to themselves in 
these terms; but this is, then, the statement of what is 
really a fictitious principle, a principle in positing which the 
patient does but justify himself and does not define his real 
motive. Utilitarianism and hedonism and the pleasure- 
pain principle, useful though they arc, are alike imperfect 
in that they refer to partial motives, partial forms of self- 
expression; whereas that which finally moves men to their 
best accomplishments and makes them dissatisfied with any- 
thing less than this, is the necessity rather than the desire 
to take complete self-expression as their final aim. The 
partial motives are more or less traceable as if by observa- 
tion. The larger motives must be felt and reached through 
inferential reasoning, based on observation of ourselves 
through careful introspection. 

Finally,, the practical, therapeutic question arises, as to 
what measures the psychoanalyst is justified in taking to 
bring about the best sort of outcome in a given case ? 

James J. Putnam 99 

It is widely felt that the psychoanalyst would weaken 
his own hold on the strong typically analytic principles 
through which painful conflicts are to be removed if he 
should form the habit of dealing with ethical issues, and 
talking of "duties", instead of stimulating his patients 
to the discovery of resistances and repressions, even 
of repression the origin of which is not to be found 
within the conscious life. Yet, parallel, as one might say, 
with this clear-cut standard of professional psychoanalytic 
obligation, the force of which I recognize, it has to be ad- 
mitted that there are certain fairly definite limitations to 
the usefulness of psychoanalysis. As one of these limita- 
tions, well-pronounced symptoms of egoism, taking the 
form of narcissism, are to be reckoned. These symptoms 
are not easily analyzed away. But if one asks oneself, or 
asks one's patients, what conditions might, if they had been 
present from the outset, have prevented this narcistic out- 
come (Jehovah type, etc.), the influence that suggests it- 
self looming up in large shape is just this broad sense of 
ethical obligation to which repeated reference has here been 
made. If these patients could have had it brought home 
to them in childhood that they belonged, not to themselves 
conceived of narrowly (that is, as separate individuals) but 
only to themselves conceived of broadly as representatives 
of a series of communities taken in the largest sense, the 
outcome that happened might perhaps have been averted. 

And what might have happened may still happen. 
What is to be done? Each physician must decide this for 
himself. He should be able both to do his best as a psycho- 
analyst and at the same time help the patient to free himself 
from that sort of repression in consequence of which he is 
unable to see his own best possibilities. But he cannot do 
this unless he has trained himself to see and feel in himself 
the outlines of this vision any more than he could help the 
patient to rid himself of an infantile complex if he did not 
appreciate what this complex means. We must trust our- 
selves, as physicians, with deadly weapons, and with deadly 
responsibilities, and we ought to be well harried by our con- 
sciences if we should do injustice, in using them, either to 
our scientific or our philosophic training. 


The Contribution of a Woman 

IT is an easy matter to accept upon authority a given 
scientific theory and bring to its support certain 
selected evidence, but quite another to carefully 
observe and report phenomena, inspired, influenced 
and guided indeed by the scientific theory but drawing con- 
clusions no wider or deeper than individual insight warrants. 
Scientific knowledge advances not by ready acceptance of 
theories but by original observation and experiment and 
the following study of dreams is offered as fulfilling in some 
degree the latter requirement. While there is a certain 
familiarity on the part of the writer with the general theory 
advanced by Freud and with his principles of interpretation, 
there is no acquaintance at first hand with his Die Traum- 
deutung, the reading of which has been postponed lest there 
be excess of influence. 

No apology is offered for this invasion of the domain of 
psychology by a layman. The laboratory of the mind is 
open to all and he who has missed conventional training 
may yet chance upon valuable facts and their interpretation. 
Neither is apology offered for the intimate nature of the 
data reported. Belonging as dreams do to the most per- 
sonal and private life of the individual it is nevertheless true 
that continued and careful study of this form of mentation 
insensibly alters one's attitude so that at length the dream 
appears as a fact of nature, impersonal and objective. 

It is a common remark that if one tells his dreams their 

*It should be stated as possibly bearing on the interpretation of the dreams 
recorded by the author, who is well known to me, that she 5s the subject of an 
intense and unusual obsession of hatred of an obtrusively pathological character 
against a relative. The psycho-pathology of the obsession, of which I have an 
intimate knowledge, has not been determined, A reasonable interpretation is 
that the main etiological factor is jealousy. She has undergone prolonged psycho- 
analytic treatment by a skilled psycho-analyst without improvement of the ob- 
session and without revealing a satisfactory explanation of its pathology. To 
what extent the contents of the dreams have been determined or coloured by cul- 
ture acquired by this treatment and by the study of Freudian doctrines is also 
a question deserving of consideration. Editor. 


The Contribution of a Woman 101 

number will increase but this increase is probably only 
apparent. With attention the products of the dream-self 
become more accessible until one who is practiced in intro- 
spection can raise the number of his remembered dreams 
from one in two or three nights to five, teji, or even fourteen 
in a single night. Even at this maximum of remembrance 
one feels that but a fraction of the mind's nocturnal activity 
is recalled. Images emerge in consciousness a-nd fall back 
into obscurity before the waking thought can grasp them. 
Or it may be more accurate to say that upon awakening 
consciousness rises from level to level. It sometimes happens 
that when first awake I recall several dreams which vanish 
utterly as a sudden shifting of consciousness occurs. Then, 
upon this new level, a new set of dreams appears. There is 
reason to believe that in thinking again of a dream which 
has once been recalled it is not the original dream experience 
which comes to mind but the copy made in the waking con- 
sciousness when it first emerged. On the other hand visions 
recognized as dreams belonging to a long past time occasion- 
ally float into the mind giving rise to the suspicion that they 
have not before reached the waking consciousness. It is 
possible that all dreams are recorded in the depths of the 
mind, themselves influencing and merging with later dreams. 
The number of my dreams recalled and written out 
during three years closely approaches five thousand and 
without doubt the total number far exceeds this. I am 
inclined to the belief that constantly., by day as well as by 
night, we are dreaming; that unnoticed and independent 
trains of thought are carried on. At times when resting if 
I fall into an abstracted state not of set purpose I find 
myself in the midst of a stream of thought appearing, for the 
moment, perfectly natural, familiar 'and intelligible, as if I 
knew the beginning and end of the matter. But only for a 
moment will consciousness remain at this lower level. There 
is a sudden return to the normal plane, the passage fades 
from memory and I wonder what on earth it was all about. 
These phases of subconscious activity differ from dreams 
proper in the absence of visual images. The ideas are em- 
bodied in words, heard with the mind one might say. The 
source may be the same as that of the night visions but it is 

IO2 Aspects of Dream Life 

evident that during the day the Jncessant stimulation of t? ,-Jie 
eye from without leaves no^pportunity for the emergen ^ce 
of the secondary visual jtffifages pertaining to subconscio 'jus 
ideas, which, we are tplS by Dr. Morton Prince, furnish the' 
perceptual elements/of the dream. The other senses are 
sometimes represented. Often we are performing, or trying 
to perform, same action. But dreams are predominantly 
visual. Goethe has said, "I believe men only dream that 
they may ilot cease to see. " 

An- account of the probable genesis of the memory 
images not only furnishes a clue to the mechanism of dream- 
ing but to the underlying conditions as well. The lowest 
forms of life possess no image-forming power. They have 
no sense organs; sensation is diffused over the entire form 
and undifferentiated. Gradually, as the scale of life is 
ascended, certain parts of the organisms become specially 
sensitive to certain stimuli and eventually individual organs 
give separate and distinct reports of phenomena. A sub- 
stance hitherto merely felt, is seen, heard, smelled, tasted. 
The passage from sensation to perception occurs when but 
one or two of the sense organs are stimulated by an object, 
yet, because of nervous connections established during 
former more close and complete experience of the object the 
remaining sense organs are faintly roused, sending into con- 
sciousness copies of former sensations. Thus the whole is 
present to mind while but a part to sense. In the develop- 
ing brain the store of memory images of various kinds would 
rapidly increase and these images would come at length to 
have a more or less independent existence. It is probable 
that the next step in the making of mind was the synthesis 
of one set of sense impressions to form an idea of the object, 
the first abstraction, and thenceforth a sensation gave rise 
to an idea. There is at this stage no impulse to explain 
sensations, but involuntarily, from the store of memory 
images, and from the reservoir of ideas above, emerges a 
representation of the exciting object. If this is one to which 
the organism is accustomed the resulting complex in the 
highest nerve centers fits the subject, but as evolution pro- 
ceeds and environment and capacity for sensation grow 
more complex, new stimulations occur. In the absence of 

The Contribution of a Woman 103 

the capacity for knowledge and understanding of the object 
the developing mind, true to its law, brings forward mental 
images most nearly related those which fit in one or two 
respects, and thus we have the birth of analogy, "the 
inference of a further degree of resemblance from an observed 
degree of resemblance. " 

To look at one's self is a late endowment. The kitten 
pursues its own tail but would chase that of its mother with 
equal ardor. I once saw a monkey searching industriously 
with eyes and hands upon its own body. The sight was 
startling. I -had never before seen an animal look intelli- 
gently at itself. It was long before man distinguished his 
self from the world without, and longer still before he began 
to understand himself. Physical and mental phenomena, 
pain and pleasure, could not be tracked to their sources and 
so came to be expressed in terms of the world of nature, and 
for a reason precisely similar that portion of the self func- 
tioning in sleep makes use of symbolism. Occasionally the 
higher thought centers are involved but the typical dream is 
the product of a restricted, primitive self, lacking the re- 
sources of the complete personality and limited in power of 
expression. In dreams we are deficient in self-consciousness 
because it is only a partial self that dreams. Our wishes are 
rarely given clear and definite expression for the reason that 
the section of the mind then active is incapable of clear, 
definite and adequate concepts. Symbolism and reasoning 
by analogy are the resources of the mind until the power of 
knowledge dawns. 

Predicating then a dream-self by its nature largely 
restricted to the use of symbolism and having at its disposal 
a vast store of images endlessly susceptible to influences 
which combine and alter their form, we reach the crucial 
question, what initiates the dream? This is by no means a 
mere purposeless thronging of visual images as occasionally 
happens in the period preceding sleep whe-n faces, forms and 
scenes flit aimlessly before the mind's eye, some bare replicas 
of stimulations of the eye from without, others the attendant 
visual images of past thoughts and experiences and their 
distorted combination. Somewhat closer to actual dream- 
ing is the rise of images accompanying present bodily and 

IO4 Aspects of Dream Lije 

mental states. I sometimes see a body in the posture my 
own body has that moment assumed and one night, when 
recalling a passage from Wilhelm Meister^ I saw a young man 
seated bareheaded on a doorstep, plainly a picture of Wil- 
helm at Marianna's threshold. In the last example we come 
definitely upon a vision induced from within, an idea working 
downward upon the visual centers. Still nearer dreams, 
indeed if occurring in sleep they would be classed with them, 
are the purely imaginative pictures whose cause is as mys- 
terious as that of the actual dream. Fire in the wall near 
the pantry door, a garden with a woman rising from a clump 
of bushes, high, rocky mountain tops, a perpendicular wall 
of rock and against it a man on a ladder reaching for a flower, 
a long vista ending with a pillared temple on a hill, these 
are a few of my visions before sleep. But to return, why 
the dream? Are all or most dreams sexual? Can we say 
with Freud that they express the fulfillment of repressed 
desires ? 

It is not my purpose to attempt a complete answer to 
this question as I am far from understanding even the major- 
ity of my own dreams. Broadly speaking I should say that 
considering the amount and complexity of the material on 
hand which the mind may use and the probable inconceivable 
number of dreams it is unlikely that all are concerned with 
this matter. This question may well be allowed to rest for 
the present. But certain convictions have arisen in my 
mind as the result of the study of hundreds of personal 
dreams, convictions which do not rest upon the arbitrary 
interpretation of accepted symbolism, though I am -far from 
questioning the validity of this procedure. I venture little 
beyond the region illuminated by individual insight though 
examples are cited far exceeding my power of interpretation. 

The sexual theory of dreams has by some authorities 
been characterized as greatly over-emphasized, as failing to 
take account of other factors and interests of human person- 
ality. To those critics let me present the matter briefly and 
simply. The very fact of a person's being alive today pre- 
supposes an ancestry stretching backward through uncounted 
ages, an ancestry whose chief function, up to very recent 
times, was sexual and reproductive. Modern interests , 

The Contribution of a Woman 105 

business., social, intellectual, religious, artistic and philan- 
thropic, which today loom so large, are a recent innovation, 
occupying in comparison with the period when they were 
not but a moment of time. In a vertical section of man 
both racial and individual, they are seen to constitute but a 
superficial layer., from a contemporary standpoint predomi- 
nant and paramount but in the light of the ages secondary 
and unstable. Biologically a woman is only an agent for 
the reproduction of her kind; more than this, with mind, all 
save the conscious, socially and ethically restricted sections, 
set toward the same end and toward the means for its accom- 
plishment. There is no gainsaying this fact and in my 
dreams which yielded to analysis it stands paramount. I 
am inclined to disregard the theory of a "censor" for the 
reason that after I had admitted to my thought and frankly 
considered certain facts, by a thousand devious hints, by a 
thousand subterfuges, my subconsciousness continued to 
express these same facts by means of obscure symbolism. 
As the savage seizes upon one link in a chain of events 
expecting thereby to repossess the whole, as the native of 
Borneo makes a wax figure of his enemy in the belief that as 
the image melts, the enemy's body will waste away, as the 
women of Sumatra when sowing rice let the hair hang loose 
down^heir backs in order that the rice may grow luxuriantly 
and have long stalks, so this woman, this under-self, ignorant 
of the true law of cause and effect, and unable to form 
definite concepts, instinctively selects from the innumerable 
memories and visual images at her disposal those having 
relation to her unfulfilled function and forms a picture or 
weaves a tale, expecting through the performance of some 
remotely associated act the complete result. 

To the events of an hour or so, supremely significant 
from a biological standpoint, are related a very large number 
of my dreamsi Again and again events of that day and of 
the preceding days form the basis of dreams; trivial circum- 
stances are revived one by one and fragments of the experi- 
ence itself are seized, distorted and each woven into what I 
can no longer term "the baseless fabric of a vision. " For 
instance the day preceding I broke my umbrella and found 
a shop where it was mended. In dream after dream appears 

io6 Aspects of Dream Life 

that broken umbrella under various circumstances anc 
when I ask the reason for its apparent importance I can not 
escape the conclusion that the article in question stands foi 
a period of time, a series of events, in which the dream-selj 
would again be placed. Apparently on that road oppor- 
tunity lay in waiting, therefore by any means at her disposal 
must that path be regained. Involuntarily the language 
of metaphor is assumed in attempting -to describe a process 
so far removed from actual knowledge. Still are we driven 
to avail ourselves of the expedient of primitive man. 

Of the dreams presently to be cited only a part fall 
within the category of analogical reasoning. In none of the 
examples is a complete analysis attempted. The mind oi 
each reader may carry the solution of the problem as far as 
it will. I am content merely to furnish a clue. That each 
dream is of great significance must not be assumed. 
But that each one, even though it appear a mere fanciful 
reverie, 'means something can hardly be doubted. At the 
outset it is acknowledged that the dreams recorded followed 
a period of intense emotion when, through the exigencies of 
life the strongest instinct of humanity required control and 
repression. Further the writer is a musician and a botanist, 
and especially interested in biological and social problems. 
Study of the latter subjects was continued throughoA the 
period in question. It must be confessed also that though 
loth to accept the sexual theory of dreams, once convinced 
of its at least partial truth I was on the watch for confirma- 
tion. I expected sexual symbolism. On the other hand 
each dream was absolutely spontaneous, an utter surprise, 
having no slightest likeness to any creation of my waking 
mind and seeming to rise from a region so remote as to be 
not myself. It should be noted also that the greater number 
of the nearly five thousand remembered dreams, all but very 
few in fact, would have remained in the limbo of the uncon- 
scious but for the persistent and trained effort which rescued 
them from oblivion. Neither by, nor apparently for my 
waking self were they formed. 

Each individual mind, besides sharing in the symbolism 
common to mankind, has doubtless its own particular and 
special forms. For instance during the period covered by 

The Contribution of a Woman 107 

my study no less than ninety different varieties of plant 
life figured in my dreams, not' including indefinite ferns, 
moss, grass, weeds and trees, and several plants noted some- 
what in detail yet unlike any form known to me. Of the 
recognizable plants a number were used somewhat cleverly 
for their analogical significance. Of these may be mentioned 
the snowball and hydrangea whose flowers as every botanist 
knows are sterile, the size of the individual blossom being 
gained at the expense of loss of stamens and pistils. These 
plants were plainly used to indicate barrenness and the pre- 
dominance of traits other than sexual. The keen critic will 
here interpose an objection. How is the primitive, unrea- 
soning dream-self able to make use of symbolism whose 
import is known only to higher and developed states of mind ? 
The force of the objection is granted and without attempting 
fully to answer it I will say that the likeness of the primitive 
mind of the race to that surviving in the highly evolved 
individual is only partial. Like tendencies exist but the 
influence of a great body of knowledge above inevitably 
alters the action of the latter. Maidenhair fern stood 
indubitably in several instances for the pubic hair, once sur- 
rounding a cluster of trailing arbutus when talcum powder 
of that fragrance had been used on the body. I dreamed of 
Linnaea borealis, the little twin-flower, in connection with a 
woman who a few days before when told of the birth of 
twins to a friend, said, "That is the way to have them come. " 
Lettuce, for its milky juice obviously, appeared in two 
bunches on the front of the waist of a woman into whose 
house I had broken by leaning against a screen door, and a 
lawn bordered by cowslips, our common name for Caltha 
palustrisy certainly represented a certain lawn that a friend 
told me had been kept mown by the cows feeding upon it 
when driven from pasture. 

In each of the above instances the floral symbolism was 
part of an elaborate dream having wider significance leaving 
no doubt as to the accuracy of my conclusions. A particu- 
larly interesting and devious use of flowers occurs in the 
following dream: I am in front of a certain house over 
which, in the dream, is growing a vine having white, star-like, 
fragrant blossoms. I want one flower and the woman living 

io8 Aspects of Dream Life 

there says I may have it. The name of the vine seems to 
be "Dyak. " There is no plant having that name but a few 
months before I was reading of the Dyak girls of Borneo 
who "are very careful of their clothing, and often very vain, 
but when they are married they frequently become exceed- 
ingly untidy." I quoted the passage in an article thus 
fixing it in my mind. The link with the dream consists in 
the fact that the woman living in the vine-decorated house 
is, in reality, notoriously untidy. Her two daughters as 
they approached womanhood greatly improved in the 
daintiness of their garb, and one had become pregnant 
outside marriage. Another dream: I see a friend, by name 
Anna, stoop and pull from the ground a tiny lily-of-the- 
valley plant. It has no roots. I say, cc What a pity." This 
dream had no meaning until into my mind came the thought 
of another Anna, a young girl who was led astray and who, 
I had just been told, had taken medicine to terminate her 
pregnancy. When I learned of this I had thought of the 
loss of the incipient life. The same night I dreamed of 
going upstairs in a shed or barn. At the top of the stairs 
something a door is in the way. I go by it. A child is 
there. Again: I am crossing a level field and come upon 
little star-like flowers which I try to analyse. I find many 
with pistils but no stamens, the pollen bearing organs 
which effect fertilization. I wonder if they will keep fresh 
until I reach home. Once more: I approach a city. I 
see woods and two gardens, either flower or vegetable, from 
which comes music. On a mound wild flowers are growing, 
some white, some small and dark. I gather them. Then 
very remote and vague, my brother is there, I see a long 
snake which my brother puts on (?) and covers my flowers. 
Still another vision was of a branch of beautiful, fragrant 
apple blossoms growing through the wall of a room. Some 
of the flowers were pistillate, some staminate, a condition 
false to nature as regards the apple. 

A dream, which in common with many others, seems 
not the fulfillment of a wish but the symbolical expression 
of a bodily and mental state, is the following: After a day 
of very great physical restlessness I dream that I am walk- 
ing in a path by a river. I can not see the water for the 

The Contribution of a Woman 109 

over-hanging trees beneath whose branches grow quantities 
of Impatiens fulva, the spotted touch-me-not, named from 
the sudden bursting of the pod when touched. The plant 
in question I had not seen for some time and the fitness of 
the symbolism to the bodily state was too close to be acci- 
dental. After a walk in the spring when the ground was 
white with the cotton-tufted seeds of the poplar and I 
thought if all germinated how overwhelmed we should be 
with poplars, I dream that I am sweeping a floor upon which 
cotton is scattered., some of which flies and is caught in my 
hair. I dream of walking under pine trees whose pollen 
falls on me, and finally though examples of the significant 
use of plants are by no means exhausted I have upon 
awakening the vision of a pine tree growing from my nose. 
This strange anomaly becomes intelligible when I recall 
that a friend told me that the pores of her nose were enlarged, 
and I said mine were also; we had been talking of a quotation 
from Emerson relating to nature's 'fecundity; my friend 
was soon to be married; and a line from Emerson often in 
my thought is that in regard to pines "throwing out pollen 
for the benefit of the next century." 

For a musician to dream of playing, or of trying to play, 
upon an organ or piano is apparently the most natural thing 
in the world and an attempt at interpretation is, to unin- 
structed common sense, a journey far afield. Yet the 
strange and striking variations introduced and the hindrances 
to my accomplishment of the act invest the dream with 
marked significance. For instance: It is after church ser- 
vice and I want to play upon the pipe organ. I find my 
music. The stool is a kettle of water with a board over it. 
A stream of water comes from the organ. There is a horse 
near which kicks or bites me. Again: I play on the piano 
to a friend who is a German scholar the opening theme of the 
Tristan and Isolde Prelude. My friend tells me the pro- 
nunciation of the title of the opera and it sounds to me like 
Froebel. That the name of the world-famous music drama, 
the apotheosis of passion, should be transformed to that of 
the notable child educator is nonsense or ptherwise accord- 
ing to the observer's point of view. Another dream: 
Some children want me to play and I go to the piano and 

no Aspect of Dream Lije 

try to play the Spring Song. But the piano stops sounding; 
only a few bass notes respond. I dream that a table of 
sheet music is on fire. Sometimes the music is too far away 
or too high for me to see: the notes are flowers, or books, or 
animals, or "hanging objects," or queer figures; in the book 
from which I play are pictures of the sea, a ship, a person, 
and birds sea gulls, among them. The bed becomes an 
organ upon which I try to play. I begin to play the Witches' 
Dance and there are not enough keys to the piano. Again 
the keys are covered by a cloth or there arc no keys. An 
organ behind me is played and I see no organist, or I move 
the pedals of an organ and music begins before the instrument 
is open. I try to play and the stops are wrong- Often 1 
search frantically for the hymn given out by the minister 
and can not find it. Once I picked flowers in its place, 
drooping racemes of sweet alyssum, which I gave to a woman. 
Oddest of all on the keys of a piano I see a small boy who 
salutes me. Lastly, I play for children to sing. At the top 
of the page of music are whole notes easy to play; below 
there are whole notes in groups of two, joined like confluent 
living cells. 

There are several examples of punning to record not 
brilliant, even somewhat vulgar yet interesting as exhibiting 
varieties of mental action. I dream that 1 am at a barn 
yard trying to hold the gate shut. In the yard are two men, 
each with an animal, a kid, one light, one dark. The light 
kid is unmanageable, pawing and shaking its head. Some 
days elapsed before the interpretation dawned upon me but 
once noted could not be doubted. Several weeks previously 
I had a business engagement and of two pairs of gloves 
kids I hesitated which to wear. 1 was to do some writing 
necessitating their removal and as one fastening of a light 
glove was difficult I fixed upon the dark pair, as to ask help 
would under the circumstances, have proved exceedingly' 

A friend had informed me of her approaching marriage. 
I* dream of eating at a table with her. I take meat but she 
wants me to do she does. So I return the meat I had chosen 
and take spare-rib. This variety of meat I had neither 
eaten nor thought of for months and the conclusion that the 

The Contribution of a Woman 1 1 1 

reference is to the story of Adarn and Eve is inevitable. I 
dream of eating at the table of a friend. I am a little sick 
and cannot eat all that is given me. My friend points smil- 
ingly to a package of stuffed dates on my plate. One date 
is apart from the package. This dream relates unmistak- 
ably to a day when I had a pressure of engagements and had 
not time to eat; when I did feel slightly ill, and when one 
very significant engagement was made unexpectedly a 
date apart from the others. A kiss of her lover upon the 
lips of a young girl becomes in my dream a piece of court 
plaster on her upper lip, and a woman about whose prospec- 
tive marriage some one asked, returns, in my night vision to 
a university to obtain the degree of B. Ed. 3 which in sleep I 
took to indicate Bachelor of Education but which is open to 
a different interpretation. 

Visions of natural scenery are most remote, strange, 
beautiful and delightful. They are doubtless composites of 
actual localities but in their construction and use fine powers 
of imagination are at work and real life seems left far behind. 
In my dreams of this type the ocean stands as a symbol of 
Life itself, of the mighty and profound procreative force 
the entrance into whose domination is the crisis of existence. 
For this experience is demanded the mightiest symbol. It 
is evening. I am on the seashore with my father and mother. 
Great waves are rolling in. I look backward and see one wave 
break where we have passed. My mother is afraid but we 
cannot turn back. I am calm. Then this immediately 
follows I am in a kind of tunnel and fear that I shall suffo- 
cate. This and the following might be construed as sym- 
bolising my own birth. I am in a boat on the ocean with 
"my mother. The waves are tremendous and as she goes out 
on deck to close a great door I fear she will be washed away. 
But she is safe. Next there is a violent jar and the boat is 
aground. Then I see down a city street. In a particularly 
impressive dream I approach the sea at early morning. I 
think I shall see the sun rise from the water. I go over a hill 
to reach the ocean which is frozen near the shore. I go into 
a little house and when I come out I can not close the door. 
The wind is high and the waves enormous. Then there is 
calm and I see a man on horseback in the water. Next a 

112 Aspects of Dream Life 

fog rises and out of the mist a little boat comes toward me, 
the oars flashing like silver! Then a little boy comes ashore. 
There are strange dreams of a frozen ocean, and of being 
out in a small boat with a friend, soon to be married, with 
ships passing and we afraid. I am near the ocean and long- 
ing to see it, and once trying to go with some one to see the 
foundation of the sea but am hindered. 

Among visions of mountains is the following: I see 
high and beautiful mountains as I stand on a bridge. I hear 
the squeal of a horse. Then stones fall from a mountain-top 
into the stream and spirals of bright water rise to meet them. 
After receiving from a man of vigorous, vital personality an 
atomizer for a slight hay fever, I dream of high mountains 
and at the foot of one is an irregular patch of red sunlight. 
Above are two houses, not side by side. In front of them is 
a fine, slanting veil of rain. A dream in which indications 
of the reputed " father complex" may be found is one of my 
father and myself in a team at the top of a high mountain, 
at the end of the road. My father wants to drive off among 
the peaks but I fear that we shall be lost. I dread the night 
there but think I can call for help. Somewhat similar is 
the following: I am in a high, steep place with my father. 
I fear. He moves a stone and in the hollow of a rock I sec 
moss or fungus. There are often brief, passing dreams in 
which no person figures. I see a bridge across a chasm; it 
is long and extends beyond where a bridge is necessary. I 
see two rivers join and wonder what the resulting stream is 
called. I see a river from the side of which emerges a spring 
of water and a new stream. A small, steep hill, snow-capped. 
A river with water above the banks, 

To dream of moving to an old house what 'signifies ' 
this? Apparently nothing. If one is to dream it must be 
of something houses or people or scenery. But to dream 
often of going to live in an ancient house, of trying to find 
in it my room; mosquito netting at the window, not quite 
tight; from my room, into a smaller one a door which I try 
to fasten but can not because at the bottom it is a swaying 
curtain, the wall paper loose and a mouse hole near the 
floor; a long, sunshiny room where I sec what appears to be 
a rat but which becomes a little kitten, weak from long confine- 

The Contribution of a Woman 113 

meiit, that follows me from room to room and at last through 
a door leading to a porch; why all these accessories? Once 
I go through many rooms furnished but uninhabited and 
come to an upper bed chamber where, upon a couch, lies a 
woman, quite dead I think; but presently she moves one 
hand. Again I go through room after room until I reach 
one where still another woman or is it the same lies dead 
on the bed. As I look she becomes a beautiful child who 
has lain there forty years. The child stirs and opens its 
eyes; I think something should be done to keep it alive but 
the eyes close, and sleep, or death, reigns again. After 
calling upon an expectant mother who showed me her layette, 
all white and blue, I dream that I go in an old house to a room 
with blue papered walls, a blue and white spread on the bed 
and a case of books, one of which is Dickens' Great Expecta- 
tions. In one old house I find the bulbs of some plant 
sprouting on a shelf; in another I open the stove and find to 
my surprise that fire is still there. In still another house I 
see behind the stove a closed door which I long to open. I 
go about the house, up steep, worn stairs, down again and 
out into a garden where there is a single strawberry and I 
think staminate and pistillate plants should be set out to 
insure fertilization. Always I think of the closed door and 
presently I return to the house and enter the room behind 
the stove. On thefloor is a green veil of firm texture. And 
at last there are cobwebs on the ceiling of my old house and 
I still search for my room. 

After the presentation of this array of symbolism quite 
spontaneously the interpretation arose in my mind. The 
old house is the recurring abode of life. I would dwell there 
and take my place in the line of succession. Quite in line 
with this symbolism was the very beautiful dream of a 
young woman not many months before her bridal which I 
give in her words: "With a crowd of unknown people I was 
to visit and go over a haunted house. The living room was 
laicely furnished in antique furniture and the whole house 
was very still. We went upstairs, and it passed through 
(my mind that people who were dead and gone had moved 
Sfhrough the rooms. I was coming down the stairs when 
Suddenly a pipe organ burst forth. That was the haunted 

114 Aspects of Dream Life 

part music in the air, no organ at all. We were awe- 
stricken and I awoke with the same feeling." In dreams oi 
this character we find it necessary to predicate a creative, 
myth-making tendency in the structure of the mind by 
means of which currents of life flowing beneath all thought 
become articulate* 

Coming now to examples of reasoning by analogy 
directly expressive of the desire for maternity, I wish to 
make still more plain my view of the reason for symbolism. 
Maternity is untold ages old; intelligent comprehension of 
the function very recent. That portion of the mind func- 
tioning in dreams that is in the majority of dreams is 
unable to picture the process and its necessary antecedents. 
(Frankly sexual dreams occurred to me very rarely.) In- 
stinctive acts are the last to be made objects of thought; a 
relatively high degree of mental development is necessary 
before the requisite detachment from the process can be ob- 
tained and as we have seen this detachment is beyond the 
power of the self that dreams. Hence the recourse to analogy 
and symbolism. 

I call upon a woman who is pregnant and whose face is 
slightly bloated. In that night's dream I look in a mirror 
and see that my face is plump. I think I am too old. I see 
on the street a young girl in short skirts wheeling a baby 
carriage. My friend tells me that the girl is a mother. 
That night I dream of being in a shop to buy an article which 
I in reality intended to purchase and in addition looking at a 
dress for a girl of twelve or fourteen. I hear of a pregnant 
woman who ran away and worked for a time in a mill and a 
night or two after I have a dream of a devious walk with 
many details which finally ends at a kind of factory. An 
expectant mother tells me of her trip to a neighboring towr 
where a friend gave her a tiny crocheted jacket. Soon aftc 
I start in a dream for that town, afoot, in the dark, withou 
lantern or money, and hampered and stumbling, make th 
weary journey. 

A dream, which upon analysis proves extremely inter 
esting is the following: I come out from a house and stan< 
looking at other houses. I am waiting for some one, an; 
look toward the street. In the yard I see a large elm trc 

The Contribution of a Woman 115 

nearly sawed off but at one side the -wood is continuous, to 
indicate that the tree is still alive. I look up. A bough 
sways and I am dizzy. I think the bough will falL Be- 
neath the tree is a sick woman on a couch. Until the clue 
was found this appeared a mere aimless mixture of imagery 
but one circumstance makes it very clear. Shortly before 
I was reading a book on biology and in the section devoted 
to the influence of environment on organisms a portion of 
the trunk of an elm tree was shown and the influence of 
various factors noted as indicated by the annual rings of 
growth. One considerable variation was due to the fact 
that children had swung from one limb of the tree. At the 
time of reading the fact made so slight an impression that 
after the dream some time elapsed before I recalled it and 
then so faintly that I had to refer to the book for verification. 
Thus we see upon what slight and obscure basis a dream 
may be constructed. 

That all dreams do not originate in one section or at 
one level of the mind is quite evident. The range extends 
from those which almost merge with waking thought to 
creations strangely remote and primitive. When I dream 
that Goethe is a guest at my home and I am trying to ask 
him in regard to Faust, Wilhelm Meister and Mignon, 
when after reading of x-rays, ether waves and electrons I 
wake with the thought, "To solve the problem of matter 
would prove materialism, " when I dream that I am con- 
versing with a conservative friend 'who says that he does 
not like new religions and I reply that Moses and Jesus were 
new once, it is plain that a different stratum of mind is 
operative than when I dream that I am in an old fort and 
chased by three rats, or that a snake is on my bed and my 
father kills it with a pitchfork, or strangest of ail, that I throw 
an egg at the plug of a sap bucket which it hits and then 
flies to the left; it is rotten. Again, a very vague dream, I 
see two eggs and then am climbing inside a kind of tower. 
.A dream which immediately preceded the menstrual period 
ITS as follows: I pass a narrow, dark, canal which seems to 
be under cover. On the very brink is a child and I fear it 
will fall in. A man is there wh^ business it is to save 
the child but he does not. That ths Indicates the impending 

u6 Aspects of Dream Life 

passage from the body of the ovum can hardly be doubted. 
Under like conditions this before sleep I see a doorway 
filled with flowers. 

It was natural that after a time I should wonder what 
event of the day would be woven into a dream; as I per- 
formed certain acts I found myself wondering, will this 
appear tonight, and how? One Sunday 1 walked across 
lots to church and on the way picked a twig of balm of 
Gilead poplar keeping it with me through service for its 
fragrance. That night I dream that I am in a pasture 
looking for fertile fronds of the cinnamon fern which I fail 
to find. I see cows and am afraid. This based on reality 
of a few days before. At length by a stone 1 find a fern 
coiled as in spring. This becomes a squirrel, the male comes, 
and then they are lions. The male has a sprig of leaves 
which he lays at the feet of the female and which she eats. 
I want to know what the leaves are but fear to look closely 
because of the lion. I found it difficult to deliberately 
influence dreams by suggestion. The dream-self is not to be 
coerced and usually I over-did the matter. Most of my 
examples deal with flowers and perhaps the most apposite 
is the following: I plucked a stem of blossoms of white 
everlasting and wore it inside my waist on my bosom all 
day, asking as I fastened it in, How will this reappear in 
iriy 'dream? The following morning as consciousness re- 
turned, I had a vision of a baby's bottle filled with milk and 
beyond it, more faint, another similar bottle. It is fair to 
say that this outcome was entirely unexpected. Another 
night after watching Venus, low in the southwestern sky, 1 
dream that I am molding a statue strangely enough the arm* 
as the reference is to the Venus de f Melos and the figure is 
that of a young woman of immoral life. 

1 My store of dreams is so great and varied that the form? 
of symbolism are by no means exhausted. The reception o 
mail is a favorite subject and here again one may say tha 
this is the most natural of dreams and quite its own cxcus 
for being. But strarxge things come in the mail, pieces c 
turf in which are growing tiny plants, boxes of rice, jelly 
breakfast food, cooked, fish still warm; and once a sack c, 
mail is emptied upon ly door-stone not by the postm^ 

The Contribution of a Woman 117 

but by a man who the day before drove past with a little 
child. Other recurring motifs are strawberries, yeast, 
Bologna sausage, ice cream once poured over slices of 
clear, transparent fruit which I eat, this very plainly referring 
to the fertilization of the eggs of fish about which I read the 
preceding evening: "As soon as the female finishes spawn- 
ing the male will approach the eggs and eject a milky fluid 
over them to effect fertilization. If this is successful the 
spawn will have a clear, glassy appearance." The dream- 
self can turn anything to its use, I read of certain suffrage 
activities in England and forthwith dream that I attend a 
suffrage meeting. But the house at which it is held is in 
reality the home of a woman nearly my age, who is pregnant. 
I pass over all the dreams obviously of an infantile 
character, and likewise those of travelling and of packing for 
a journey. More unusual is the dream of a flight of birds 
which twice occurred under conditions which left no doubt 
as to its sexual character. A house having a wet sink and 
a dry one is the verdict of my dream-self regarding a home 
in -which the woman can bear no more children because of 
physical disability; and a railway station where I go down 
the steps, pick from the floor a flower wondering if it is all 
right, reach a restaurant in which seventy have that night 
been served and where I lose my flower, symbolizes a house 
of prostitution mentioned in Chicago's famous report where 
one woman served sixty men in one night and was said to 
have seven thousand dollars in the bank. Beneath con- 
vention strange unconvention lurks. A young woman of 
irregular life appears in my dream as one with soiled skirts, 
and, very vaguely, some one's else -^kirts are soiled also. 
After seeing a print of Tompkins' pacing, Hester Prynne, 
heroine of The Scarlet Letter, I dr im that I go to a shop, 
where I have great difficulty becau ,e of darkness, to buy 
some dark green silk for embroideiing a letter somewhere 
<on my dress. Not to pander to the base in human nature 
are these details given but to make known life's realities to 
those who are blinded by theories. The frank and honest 
-truth is never foul and monstrous. Society can be renovated 
*pnly when all the facts are brought to light. 
tt In conclusion I give the dreams of a single night: 

n8 Aspects of Dream Life 

First, a drunken man and girl in the same team; I think 
they should not be there. Then I am on a porch looking 
off at a headland with ice at the foot. Farther up the hill 
are quantities of ice a sheet of it over the ground and in 
one place it is as if water had been poured and allowed to 
freeze. In the midst of this last, which is not on the hill, 
is a fine and shapely tree with the ice about it very smooth 
and shining and slanting somewhat. I think it is a good 
place for skating. In the morning as I recalled this dream, 
quite abruptly into my mind came the remark of Philina in 
Wilhelm Meister, after seeing a woman "great with child," 
"It were prettier if we could shake children from the trees. " 
Next I see far off high mountains with sunlight on the sum- 
mits. Then I am in a porch enclosed by a wire screen; by 
me is a woman. From the window of a building outside, 
which seems to be a hospital without funds, a woman looks 
at me. I -want to see far off and shade my eyes with my 
hands. I think I must cut the screen in order to see clearly. 
Then I see a rampart and beyond it is the ocean. I hear a 
bird, a robin, on the rampart. Near it is another bird, large, 
gray and strange. Then it is a rooster. The key to this dream 
lies in the fact that the day before I received an appeal for 
financial aid from a hospital and the printed request showed 
the picture of a row of nurses each with a tiny baby in her 
lap. Finally I go into a bed-room. On the bed is a baby. 
I uncover it and it moves and cries. It wants its mother 
and I go to find her. 

That the mind which dreams is not uiicognizant of the 
hopelessness of its aspirations is strangely indicated by the 
following for which at the time I found no direct exciting 
cause: I see two long lines of seeds planted and at the end 
of the rows tiny lettuce plants. Near by are apple trees 
in blossom. But it is autumn. 

Bergson at the close of his essay on dreams hints that 
the mind may transcend its conjectured limits and be in- 
fluenced in profound slumber by telepathy. This is but ai 
hypothesis which must long await verification. My owi 
dreams which apparently forecast the future are out-nun: 
bered by erroneous forecasts v and one vivid dream of th 
death of a friend though coinciding as to the day, is not < 

The Contribution of a Woman H9 

great value as evidence as I had been expecting the news for 
weeks, and further, beyond the surface portent the dream 
is remotely allied in certain details with more personal and 
vital memories. 

Though the dream process may to a certain extent be 
made verbally intelligible he who studies it most best realizes 
the attendant mystery. Dream-self, subconscious ideas, 
visual images, these are but terms which bridge the abyss 
of our ignorance. Further exploration of the mystery is of 
value not only from the standpoint of pure science, to whose 
domain there is no limit, but also in the interest of education, 
health, sanity and morality. It is neither necessary nor wise 
for all persons to study their dreams, but for those who 
shape the growing thought and conduct of the world a knowl- 
edge of even the remotest outposts of human mentality is 
supremely important. 




I have frequently wondered whether those of us who 
oppose the dissemination of the Freudian theories, at 
least as they are being and have been applied to the 
psychoneuroses and to psychopathology in general, 
have solved the problem as we should have solved it or 
fought the fight as we should have fought it. It has not 
infrequently seemed to me that our plan of battle, our cam- 
paign, the battle we have in a way waged, was not as con- 
sistently planned and as well organized as it should have 
been and as the occasion really demanded. There were 
many lines of attack open for us. We could, if we so wished, 
have made generalized and wholesale attacks upon all that 
Freudism stood for regardless of whether, in certain principles, 
it was right or wrong. This some have actually done. 
Although this method is" not in my opinion fair or scientific, 
yet, so reckless and so uncritical have been many of the 
Freudians, and the foremost Freudians at that, in their 
declarations and conclusions, that I can readily see how one 
may be prompted to resort to unmitigated ridicule and 
general condemnation of the entire system, the standpoints 
and the conclusions that have been made the bulwark of the 
Freudian movement. Others have adopted a different 
method of dealing with the situation. They have entirely 
ignored the Freudian school and all that it stands for, and 
have permitted the members of this school to go to ever 
greater and greater extremes and excesses, with the more 
extensive elaboration of their system, so that eventually 
the error of their ways would be apparent to all, since the 
final conclusions to which they would be led would be openly 

a Dr. Isador H. Coriat's paper with this title appeared in the Journal of Ab- 
normal Psychology, Volume IX, No. 6, February-March, 


Meyer Solomon 121 

fallacious and give proof positive that the foundation, the 
psychology upon which as a basis the Freudian system of 
interpretation and analysis has been erected, was defective 
to such an extent that it would crumple into disintegrated 
portions under the heavy load of the unsupported super- 
structure. This method has by no manner of means been 

A third standpoint to be assumed is that in which 
replies to or criticisms of individual articles, rather than 
criticisms of a general nature and applicable to the Freudian 
psychology or method or conclusions in toto, is adopted as 
the proper method of dealing with the situation with which 
we found ourselves with the advent and spread of the Freudi- 
an movement. This last-mentioned method is probably 
the most desirable of the three methods which have been 
here mentioned. 

And it is the method which I shall follow in this criticism 
of Dr. Coriat 5 s paper, because, among other reasons, I believe 
it is the fairest to all concerned. 

It is not my purpose to take up for discussion the various 
statements, made by Dr. Coriat, with which I disagree, but 
rather to consider only the question of the correctness or 
incorrectness of the general thesis which he has presented. 

The reasons for my entering into a criticism of this 
particular article by Dr. Coriat may be stated as follows: 
In the first place I am interested in the general problems of 
psychopathology, and of the psychoneuroses in particular. 
In the second place I am somewhat unusually interested in 
the problem of stuttering. 3 This latter interest has two 
main sources of origin: (i) I am deeply interested in the 
question of stuttering because of my general interest in 
neurology and psychiatry, including the speech disorders, 
under which heading stuttering finds its place; (2) I have 
myself, from earliest childhood, suffered from this affection 
and so find myself naturally much interested in the subject. 

It is not out of place, it seems to me, to at once answer 
one of the stock arguments which certain Freudians have 
been in the habit of offering as a reply to those who criticized 

2 In this paper I shall use the terms "stammering** and "stuttering" inter- 

122 Remarks upon "Stammering as a Psychoneurosis" 

their theories and conclusions. I refer to the argument or 
rather the insistence that those who oppose the spread of the 
Freudian ideas are themselves unconscious illustrations of 
the truth and accuracy and general applicability of the 
Freudian dicta. In this argument they accuse their oppon- 
ents of unconsciously indulging in or being victims of a 
defense mechanism, as a means of self-justification and self- 
rationalization, based on repression, sexuality, etc-, in order 
that their hidden, unconscious, repressed, forgotten desires, 
tendencies and inclinations may not be brought to the sur- 
face and consciously acknowledged. In other words, in my 
particular case (my present criticism of Dr. Coriat's paper), 
I could, perhaps, be accused, by those Freudians -who are 
in the habit of resorting to this charge as their own method 
of self-justification and self-rationalization, as the path of 
least resistance and as a loophole through which they can 
escape from meeting the situation presented to them by a 
frank self-examination and acknowledgment of error or by 
a fair and satisfactory response I could be accused, I re- 
peat, of showing, by the very fact of my criticism, that all 
that Dr. Coriat stated concerning the origin and nature of 
stammering was true. 

In replying to this oft-repeated and oft-resurrected 
assertion, I need not be detained for any great length of 
time from proceeding to the consideration of those facts 
which are the real purpose of this paper. I need only say, 
in parentheses, that it does seem to me that there surely are 
a few anti-Freudians (and I may here include myself) who 
are perhaps, who knows, capable of that degree of unpre- 
judiced self-criticism and intensive self-analysis which is 
necessary for the purposes of making ourselves eligible for 
candidacy as critics of the Freudian theories and dogmata. 
I may go further and gently suggest that it even seems to 
me that there may be some others of us who are capable of 
as great a degree of such self-criticism and self-analysis as, 
and it may even be of a greater degree than, many of those 
who have been making this claim. I am content tp leave 
this point to the sound judgment and good sense of the 
average reader of these pages. 

The second point that I should bring out in this con- 

Meyer Solomon 123 

nection is as follows: That which is of fundamental im- 
portance and of basic significance in the life of the psycho- 
neurotic or the stutterer, that which is the fundamental and 
essential motive force which controls the psychoneurotic 
and the stutterer is also true, but in greater or less degree, 
for all of those who are not within the confines of this group. 3 
And as a further statement I must assert that whatever is 
deemed to be the essential and primary cause for stuttering 
must also be applicable, in the same way but in different 
degree, to all the other manifestations of speech disorder 
such as the slips of the tongue, and many other of the psycho- 
pathologic acts of everyday life. Consequently, if the 
Freudian theories of sexuality are directly applicable to the 
problem of stuttering, it follows that they must likewise be 
applicable to all the other disturbances of speech just referred 
to. For, if followed out to the very end, we shall find that 
the possible mental content and mental mechanisms are the 
same for all psychopathologic acts, whether of everyday life 
or distinctly abnormal and outside the pale of our average 
range. If sexuality lies at the bottom of stuttering, it must 
be at the root of all other psychopathologic acts, of "whatever 
nature, of whatever degree and wherever and whenever 
found. I cannot devote the time in this place to enter into 
an elaborate discussion to prove the truth of this thesis. 
But I can gain my point more easily and more directly in 
another way. Although Freud and his followers have not 
stated, in just so many words, that the psychopathologic 
acts of everyday life have the same hidden mental content 
that the psychoneuroses have (although it is my contention 
that this conclusion is but a natural extension of their sexual 
theories concerning the psychoneuroses), yet we do find that 
Freud and the Freudian school in general apply their sexual 
theories to the whole group of the psychoneuroses. Now, 
since stuttering is a psychoneurotic disorder of a certain 
special type, it is understood that they must believe that 
stuttering, as a matter of course, comes within the rubric 
of their generalization. As a matter of fact, if their sexual 

3 Freud himself agrees that his sexual theories apply to all mankind and that 
the psychoneurotic differs from others in not being able to successfully and com- 
pletely repress or sublimate the undesirable sexual trends. 

124 Remarks itpon "Stammering as a Psychoneurosis" 

theories were at first applied only to stuttering, as they were 
originally applied to hysteria, it would mean that, by a 
process of reasoning, the Freudian school would have to 
apply their difcta to all of the psychoneuroses. This was, 
in truth, just what did occur, beginning with hysteria. And 
it is seen that the same thing would have happened had 
they begun with stuttering. I contend, further, but I shall 
not endeavor in this place to prove the correctness of my 
contention, that what is absolutely and without exception, 
fundamentally and essentially true of the psychoneuroses 
is likewise true, in different degree, of the psychopathologic 
acts of every day life. This would be the conclusion to 
which I would be forced if I started with any one of the 
psychoneuroses, whether it be hysteria or stuttering. One 
can thus see that my statement that if Freud's theories are 
true for stuttering they must of necessity be true for all 
psychopathologic acts of whatever sort is quite true. 4 I 
could go much further and prove that if Freud's theories 
were the primary and basic explanation for stuttering they 
must be applicable to all manifestations of human mental 
energy, which to me would mean that they are no less true 
of all vital energy, human or otherwise. In other words, the 
solitary application of Freud's conception to the problem of 
stuttering would lead us, by logical steps, to the ultimate 
conclusion that the vital energy was sexual a conclusion 
with which Jung will not agree. And let us not forget, too, 
that the term "sexual" would here be used in a psychological 
sense, so that, in fact, Freud's theories of sexuality as the 
explanation of stuttering would lead us, step by step, to a 
psychosexual conception of the universe. And is this not 
exactly what the Freudian school has assumed? 

I fear that I have not made myself as clear as I should 
and as I should like to, but at the risk of being misunderstood, 
or of not carrying the reader with me in my argument, I 
shall not enter into any further discussion of this aspect 
the wider meanings of Dr. Coriat's paper. 

As can be judged from the above remarks, it was no 
surprise to me to see such a paper on stuttering as Dr. 

4 Freud himself agrees psycho-pathologic acts of everyday life are the formes 
frustes of the psychoneuroses and that this shows that we are all slightly nervous. 

Meyer Solomon 125 

Coriat's. To be sure it was tacitly, understood, by those 
who could read between the lines, that this must be the belief 
of the Freudian school, since their conclusions were said to 
be true of all the psychoneuroses. 

I had also known that a few Freudian's abroad had 
arrived at conclusions similar- to those presented by Dr. 
Coriat, but since, so far as I knew, no paper along this line 
had appeared in the English or American journals, I did not 
give the subject any serious or special consideration and had 
not the slightest idea of refuting the statements. When, 
however. Dr. Coriat's paper appeared, I concluded that it 
was not out of place for me at this time to enter into a criti- 
cism of these views. 

I have felt on many occasions that too many of the 
statements made by members of the Freudian school have 
been left unchallenged, with the result that the views pro- 
mulgated have received quite widespread dissemination; 
so much so that many believe that the sensational and un- 
supported views which have come to their ears are accepted 
as the untarnished truth by most or all psychopathologists, 
and were a definitely proven and generall) r accepted part of 
psychopathology. It is therefore not at all surprising to 
find so many workers in other fields of medicine who believe 
that the terms "psychopathology 5 ' and "Freudian psycho- 
analysis " are synonymous,, One and the same thing. 

This also is one of the, motives which prompts me to 
write these lines. 

I am furthermore impelled by the purely scientific 
desire for truth and accuracy, as applied in particular to the 
problem of stuttering. 

And last, but by no means least, I see a serious danger 
to the community in the uncritical acceptance and the 
widespread dissemination of the views promulgated by the 
Freudian school. 

Let me assure Dr. Coriat that I regret very much that 
I find myself compelled to take the field against him or 
rather his paper in this connection, and that no personalities 
enter into the question at issue, but that it is a purely scien- 
tific problem, which demands the freest discussion, from all 
sides. Each of us is entitled to his personal opinions in this 

126 Remarks upon "Stammering as a Psychoneurosis" 

matter. The question of sincerity and honesty of purpose 
Is not at all breathed. It is purely a matter of "What is the 

And it shall be my object in the following brief discus- 
sion not to give my personal views upon this subject, nor 
even to dissect each and every statement in Dr. Coriat's 
paper with which I find myself at issue, but merely to show 
wherein Dr. Coriat is in most serious error. 

I shall confine myself to the question of the application 
to stammering of the sexual theories so rampant in Freudism. 
Besides, I shall avail myself of the privilege of giving, in 
Dr. Coriat's own words, the gist of his theory or concept. 

"The attempt to repress from consciousness into the 
unconscious certain trends of thought or emotions, usually 
of a sexual nature, is the chief mechanism in stammering." 
This is the only place in the article where Dr. Coriat ex- 
presses any doubt as to the universal validity of his theory 
for all cases of stuttering. But I consider this merely as 
a slip of the tongue or pen, because in the' other portions of 
the paper the conclusion concerning the sexual basis of 
stammering is unqualifiedly made general, and I find that 
even on the very next page, at the conclusion of the para- 
graph of which the sentence just quoted is the beginning, 
there occurs the statement that "the fear in stammering is a 
deflection of the repressed sexual impulse or wish." With 
this beginning Dr. Coriat proceeds to explain: "Thus the 
repressed thought, because of fear of betrayal, comes in 
conflict with the wish to speak and not to betray (the secret 
through words 5 ). Hence, the hesitation in speech arises 
and as the repressed thoughts gradually are forced into the 
unconscious, there finally develops the defective speech 
automatism, either stammering or a spastic aphonia. This 
arises in childhood after the child has learned to speak. " 

Moreover, "the hesitation of stammerers on certain 
words or letters Is due to disturbing complexes. The stam- 
mering does not cause the inhibition, it is the inhibition which 
is at the bottom of the stammering." 

"Two types of stimuli lead to stammering, either inter- 

5 Words in parentheses mine but taken from Dr. Coriat's paper, for explana- 
tory purposes. 

Meyer Solomon 127 

nal conflicts, or external instigators which throw these con- 
flicts into activity. The internal conflicts are either con- 
scious or unconscious fear of betrayal (and therefore a wish 
to retain a secret), and this mental attitude leads to the 
dread of speaking, a genuine conversion of morbid anxiety 
into defective speech. . . . The external stimuli act like 
dream instigators, for instance the fear of speaking to rela- 
tives or to intimate friends may be based upon the fear that 
the unconscious wishes may be discovered and this stimulates 
the unconscious anxiety, whereas with strangers, speech is 
free, because the dread of discovery is absent. " 

"Thus," says Dr. Coriat, "the beginning of stammer- 
ing in early childhood ... is caused by the action of 
unconscious repressed thoughts upon the speech mechanism, 
the repressed thought obtruding itself in speech." 

In brief it is contended by Dr. Coriat that the stammer- 
ing arises as a defense or compensation mechanism, the 
object of which is to keep from consciousness certain painful 
memories and undesirable thoughts, in order that they may 
not be betrayed in speech. In fact, as Dr. Coriat says, "all 
-stammering, with its hesitation, its fear, its disturbing emo- 
tions, is a kind of an association test in everyday life and 
not a phonetic disturbance. It is a situation phobia, the 
same as phobias of open or closed places. " 

Consequently, according to this view, stammering is 
purposeful and intentional and not accidental. This pur- 
posiveness is psychological and individualistic. It is resorted 
to by the individual for very definite, intimate, personal 
reasons. It is due to unconscious, repressed hidden com- 
plexes -which crowd or press between the words of syllables, 
as Stekel puts it, and which produce the inner resistance 
which inhibit the free flow of speech. 

It is asserted that these hidden, repressed, unconscious 
thoughts are related to the sexual impulse or wish. 

Dr. Coriat enumerates the types of repressed complexes 
in childhood which may bring about stammering as follows : 
* c i. Repression of sexual acts or secrets and the fear of 
betrayal. 2. Typical Oedipus complexes, with a fear of 
betrayal of the hate for the father, and a consequent em- 
barrassment of speech in his presence. 3. Masochistic 

128 Remarks upon "Stammering as a Psychoneurosis" 

phantasies, wondering and imitating how it would sound to- 
talk with the tongue cut out. 4. The fear of pronouncing 
or saying certain sexual and, therefore, tabooed words, and 
thus betraying what the child thinks, his hidden thoughts. 
. The stammering may then arise as a wish to say 
or think certain tabooed words and the wish encounters a 
prohibition from within. These words may relate to certain 
anal, urinary or sexual functions which are recognized by 
the child as unclean, and thus forbidden to pronounce. 5. 
As a manifestation of anal eroticism, that is, holding the 
feces so that he could talk while trying to conceal the act. 

Talking at these times would be difficult, because 
talking would take away the muscular tension for withhold- 
ing the, feces. " 

At another place Dr. Coriat assures us that "the dreams, 
of stammerers are interesting because these dreams reveal 
their wishes to talk freely, their resistances and transferences, 
and, also, their reversions to childhood when the stammering 
arose as an embarrassment complex or as a gainer of time 
to conceal their sexual thoughts or libido. " 

I have presented Dr. Coriat's views so fully and quoted 
him so much at length in order that there may not be any 
question of the absolute accuracy of my statements. 

What does this mean to the one who has followed the 
trail of the Freudian movement? The meaning is plain. 
It is like the handwriting on the wall. Dr. Coriat has per- 
mitted himself to be deluded by the Freudian sexual theories, 
and their application to the psychoneuroses, and in this, 
special instance to stammering. 

What does this imply? It implies that Dr. Coriat 
accepts the Freudian theories en masse. Hence, to discuss 
this subject in a thorough way I should have to take up for 
discussion the various aspects of Freudian psychoanalysis. 
This would include a consideration of the method employed, 
the psychology, the attitude or standpoint assumed, the "art 
of interpretation" developed, and the real meanings, in their 
wider and more extended sense, of various unsupported, un- 
founded, dogmatic and untrue conclusions of a theoretical 
and practical nature. This cannot, it is obvious, be ex- 
pected in this place. Attempts of a certain sort in this* 

Meyer Solomon 129 

direction have been made by me in previous communica- 
tions. 6 In the not very distant future I shall endeavor more 
successfully to cope with some of the problems mentioned. 

With respect to the general problem of sexuality I may 
say that I have recently 7 taken up, for separate dissection, 
the conception of sexuality assumed by Freud and his fol- 
lowers. The present paper should, I feel, be read in con- 
nection with this particular paper, since it will, in a way, 
clear the field of many of the misunderstandings in interpre- 
tation. Everything depends upon what one means by 
"sexuality" or "sexual impulse" or "sexual tendency." 
Unless a mutual understanding is arrived at on this subject 
of sexuality, little advance toward the dissipation of con- 
flicting views of Freudians and anti-Freudians can ever be 
had. And permit me to mention in this place that it is the 
Freudians themselves and not their opponents who are most 
to blame. Until the Freudian school decidedly and once 
for all gives up its false and distorted viewpoint of man's 
sexual impulse and of human mental life, little progress of a 
worth-while nature can be made by them. 8 

Starting out, then, with certain concepts or theories 
which are basically wrong and can be summed up by stating 
that they assume an individualisitic, psychosexual concep- 
tion of life and interpretation of vital phenomena, and with a 
psychology and a sexology which is radically wrong in its 
sweeping and dogmatic conclusions. Dr. Coriat, who has 
obviously accepted these theories as actualities, else he could 
not have arrived at the ideas concerning stammering which 
he presents in his paper, builds up or accepts an imagina- 
tively constructed theory which he applies in full force to 
the problem of stuttering, and into which he crowds the phe- 
nomena of a physical and mental order which are manifest 
in this intermittent, special psychoneurotic disorder. As 
a natural consequence all the faults of Freudism have been 

G See, for example, the Psychoanalytic Review , January 1915 and the Journal 
of Abnormal Psychology, June-September, 1914. 

7U A Critical Review of the Conception of Sexuality Assumed by the Freud- 
ian School." Medical Record, March 27, 1915. 

8 Owing to the fixed, systematized theories of the Freudian school, I believe 
that little co-operation can be expected from it. We can only prevent the dissem- 
n ation of their dangerous sexual theories. 

130 Remarks upon "Stammering as a Psychoneurosis" 

transported to the elucidation of the genesis, nature and 
evolution of stammering. And this means that the theories 
of universally acting psychicalrepression, of the unconscious, 
of the endopsychic censor, of the significance of resistance 
and amnesia, of the employment of highly complicated and 
phantastic symbolism, of the manifestations of sexuality 
and so forth have been made use of in a high-handed, un- 
called for, unnecessary and unscientific manner to prove the 
truth of the thesis with which the author set out upon his 

It is no wonder that in such a fashion and with such 
concepts the conclusions above cited were arrived at. In- 
deed, work along this line was unnecessary, except in a pur- 
posively corroborative way, if the theories of Freud in the 
case of the whole group of psychoneuroses is once seized upon 
and accepted as the basic truth. The problem for Dr. Coriat 
is to prove the truth of Freud's conceptions as laid down in 
his psychology and sexology, upon which his psychopath- 
ology is built. 

I must stoutly protest against an evasion of the real 
issues by the leaders of the Freudian movement. Let them 
retrace their steps and first prove the truth, soundness and 
validity of their psychological and sexual theories and cease 
pressing on to pastures new, as Dr. Coriat has done here in 
the case of stuttering. If they are not prepared to do this, 
or are unwilling so to do, I do not believe that they are en- 
titled to continue to inflict upon others views which have 
little real foundation in fact, which are unproven, unfounded, 
purely speculative, imaginative, pure figments of the imagina- 
tion, a delusion and a snare. I have elsewhere 9 given credit 
to Freud and his co-workers where I think they deserve it. 
But that should not deter me from protesting against their 
evasion of the issues, their befogging of the problems in- 
volved, their failure, to prove their case or to offer satisfac- 
tory replies to criticism which is given in a fair and frank 

The method of burying one's head in sand, after the 

9 "A Plea for a Broader Standpoint In Psychoanalysis*" Psychoanalytic 
Review, January, 

Meyer Solomon 131 

manner of the ostrich, and the refusal to see that which is 
pointed out or which stares one clearly in the face, cannot 
go far to establish one's case or as a method of defense. 
And the same thing applies to that oft-repeated and tiresome 
retort: " You do not (or perhaps you cannot) understand our 
theories and viewpoints." Or that other evasive accusa- 
tion, rather than reply: "Your lack of understanding is of 
itself proof positive that our theories are absolutely correct 
in every detail." Or "Your attack or criticism just com- 
pletely and undoubtedly proves our case. You are prompted 
by those very mental mechanisms and by that self-same 
mental content meaning all the time the sexual content 
and sexual mechanisms which we have been trying to 
explain to you so that you might understand us. 5 ' 

In response to this I should like to ask the Freudian 
school what it means by "censor," "wish," "unconscious," 
"sexual," and other similar and constantly used terms which 
form the stronghold of their defenses. I have shown, 10 at 
least to my own satisfaction, that the conception of sexual- 
ity is not at all clear to any of the Freudian school, including 
Freud himself. This should by no means be so. Surely the 
terms which are constantly used and are the sine qua non 
of their theories should have a definite meaning of some sort, 
at least to the Freudians themselves. Mystical and meta- 
physical implications should not continue to find a sheltering 
place in the province of psychopathology. They should be 
uprooted and driven forth from the dark and hidden recesses 
into the light and open highways. 

These statements have a direct application to the paper 
which I have undertaken to criticize. It is all very well and 
very commendable to come forward with new theories. 
They are entertaining, interesting and make one think, even 
if they are not at all true. But it should be definitely and 
plainly stated that we are dealing with theories and not with 
facts, that the theories will be considered theories until they 
are proven to be facts, and that if they are disproven, they 
should be thrown into the rubbish heap or" discarded, or else 
they should be modified to meet with the facts and actual 
conditions as they are and not as they ought in our opinion 
10 Loc. cit. 

132 Remarks upon "Stammering as a Psychoneurosis" 

to be or as we should like them or as we imagine them to be. 

Here we are confronted with a problem (stammering) 
which has been the subject of much study and discussion by 
many men. Theories have been carefully and guardedly 
formulated by most workers in this field. Many of them 
were, it is true, in error in their conclusions or viewpoints. 
They were, as it were, on the wrong trail. 

Here is a problem of the greatest interest and of the 
greatest importance one which should demand the most 
careful research and the most positive deliberation and con- 
sideration, with prolonged and intensive study and observa- 
tion of cases, combined with self-scrutiny and self-analysis 
and self-knowledge (which means a keen insight into human 
nature and the human mind in its manifold workings). 
Here is a serious, concrete problem of great practical im- 
portance. Its solution and elucidation means much. And 
he who comes forward with an explanation of this problem 
should be expected to give conclusive proof of his conception 
and for his conclusion. And we should, justly and as a 
matter of course, expect and demand it. 

And what proof has Dr. Coriat given us for his con- 
clusions? Here and there scattered through his paper one 
finds a few conclusions or explanations of a concrete nature, 
but they are his interpretations of the facts and not the facts. 
No real , in fact not a vestige of proof is offered. The few dreams 
which he presents do not, to the inquiring and demanding read- 
er, show anything which permit of the conclusions which Dr. 
Coriat draws with reference t their meaning or significance. 
He seems to have interpretated (rather than analyzed) them 
in typical Freudian fashion. And, furthermore, even if his in- 
terpretations of the few dreams which he presents and which 
were taken from different cases were true, of what significance 
would that be? What right would we thus have of drawing 
conclusions which apply to all cases of stuttering (and, as 
mentioned earlier in this paper, to many other related states 
of a normal and abnormal nature) ? Not the slightest. 

Not a single case has been presented in proof of the 
conclusions drawn in the paper. Surely this is not what we 
have been accustomed to expect in other fields of medicine, 
especially when the conception newly put forth is qjitirely 

Meyer Solomon 133 

novel, sensational, revolutionary, contrary to all former 
beliefs, and based on theories and conclusions which have 
been for some time and still are a centre of storm, of wordy 
argumentation, and even of insult and abuse at any rate 

Has the science and practice of psychopathology come 
to the stage when theories of any sort can be given to the 
reading public as fact, and no actual proof therefor pre- 
sented ? 

I venture to say that in no other department of medicine 
or in fact in no other aspect of life would scientific men 
tolerate such presentation and promulgation, despite opposi- 
tion and disproof and with no tangible or definite evidence 
or proof. Nor would men come forward to offer revolution- 
ary, let alone dangerous theories, for general consumption, 
with so little proof, as is being laid on the platter for psycho- 

I find no evidence offered by Dr. Coriat to bolster up 
the conclusions of his paper. 

In response to a question asked by one of those who 
discussed his paper in which he was requested to explain how- 
he knew that stammering begins by concealing something, 
Dr. Coriat stated: "I have had an opportunity of examining 
a number of stammerers and subjecting them to a complete 
psychoanalysis, studying all the paradoxical mental reactions 
and in nearly every case this concealment of some sexual 
secret of childhood came up. It is easy to establish a certain 
relationship between the speech embarrassment and the 
concealed sexuality. " 

There is, as is seen, no other proof for this theory (that 
is all that one call it) of Dr. Coriat and the Freudian school 
in general, than his or their say-so. Those who are acquaint- 
ed with the method of arriving at conclusions adopted by 
the Freudian school will demand more than this as proof of 
either the " concealment " of some "sexual secret" of child- 
hood (and where lives there a man or woman that has not 
sexual memories, not necessarily secrets, of some sort or 
other, related to the period of puberty or antedating it by a 
certain varying period ?) or the establishment of a relationship 
other than co-existence or coincidence, between the speech 

134 Remarks upon "Stammering as a Psychoneurosis" 

embarrassment and the " concealed sexuality" (just as if 
even proof of the existence of this relationship was sufficient 
testimony of the causative operating influence of the latter). 

I could discuss Dr. Coriat's paper from many angles, 
and in each case show that its conclusions were not only 
unsupported but impossible. 11 But in the above remarks I 
have presented sufficient evidence, I believe, to carry out the 
objects of this criticism. 

The reader should not lose sight of the cold but impor- 
tant fact that the application of Freud's sexual theories to 
stammering in children is, in my humble opinion, fraught 
with the greatest danger. I cannot do otherwise than look 
upon this as positively anti-social. It would, it is my belief, 
be a glaring and rife source of danger to the community and 
to society in general for. these ideas to be spread broadcast. 
Freud himself has shown that the child, before puberty, 
with his more or less undifferentiated sexual impulse, may 
be swept along into any one or more of the sexual aberrations 
or to intrafamilial sexuality. These goals exist .only as 
possibilities and should not, I contend, be referred to as 
predispositions or tendencies (almost as if they were in- 
stincts). The direction of the child's thought along this 
line before or at or after puberty may prove disastrous in 
one or more of many different ways. 

Think of hinting at or talking about or harping upon 
matters of this sort to children, let alone to adults of the 
usual sort! It would be nothing less than a crime to society, 
to the family and to the growing child. In this respect I look 
upon the application of the Freudian theories as a distinct and 
glaring danger to the individual, to the family and to the 

Efforts to stem the tide from flowing in this direction 
should be unfettered. It means much for humanity. 

Even hinting (to the children) in a remote way about 
the various aspects of sexuality described by the Freudian 
school should not find its place and has no place in treating 
stammering per se in children. 

1 1 The ideas in the paper are, in fact, absurd. If definite, practical, clinical 
issues were not involved matters might be different. But the situation is serious, 
yes, dangerously antisocial, since the practical application of these theories to 
human beings is the point of greatest interest. 

Meyer Solomon 135 

Think of the effect of continual conversation and think- 
ing of this sort upon a child at or before puberty, or at 
adolescence, or even upon an individual in adult life! His 
thoughts are continually drifted to his urogenital organs 
and the sexual possibilities of all sorts of human relation- 
ships, intrafamilial as well as extrafamilial. 

The Freudians may object to any statements to the 
effect that they tell their patients about these sexual theories. 
I find Jones, 12 for instance, declares that Freud "deliberately 
withholds from his patients all knowledge of psychoanalyses 
except what they discover for themselves." Even granting 
this, the patient doesn't have to wait long or think much 
before he does discover for himself just what the Freudians 

But Freud 13 himself contradicts this statement by Jones 
when he says: "// with my patients I emphasize the frequency 
of the Oedipus dream of having sexual intercourse with one's 
own mother I get the answer: 4 I cannot remember such a 
dream. 5 Immediately afterwards, however, there arises 
recollection of another disguised and indifferent dream, 
which has been dreamed repeatedly by the patient, and the 
analysis shows it to be a dream of this same content that is, 
another Oedipus dream. " 

Then again, listen to Brill: 14 "With reference to the 
question of determining that a person is homosexual. 

"A patient came to me who was said to have nothing 
the matter with his sexual life, but who had convulsions. 
/ had seen him not more than three times when I said to him: 
* 'You are homosexual* and I explained what I meant. He 
told me that while at college he never indulged in sexual acts, 
and that for this reason he used to "wrestle, during which he 
would have ejaculation, and he selected his partners. Un- 
questionably from the beginning of his existence he was 
homosexual, although he was able to have sexual intercourse 
with his wife, but he was compelled to marry when quite 
young; he was 'prodded into it,' as he said. He came to me 

1S Ernest Jones: Professor Janet on Psychoanalysis; A Rejoinder. Jour- 
nal of Abnormal Psychology, Feb. -Mar., 1915, p. 407. 

13 Brill*s translation of Freud's Interpretation, p. 242. Italics mine. 

14 The Conception of Homosexuality, Journal of American Medical Associa- 
ation, August 2, 1913. See Brill's discussion on pages 339-34- Italics mine. 

136 Remarks upon "Stammering as a Psychoneurosis" 

to be treated for neurosis, but the neurosis was simply the 
result of homosexual lack of gratification. 

"We should be particularly careful not to suggest any- 
thing. I never tell a patient that he is homosexual. Be 
reasonably sure that he is homosexual and you need not hesi- 
tate to tell him so." 

It all depends on what one means by "reasonably sure" 
or what kind of and how much evidence one requires or de- 
mands to be "reasonably sure." 

Furthermore the mass of popular Freudian literature is 
not by any means hidden from the patient. 

In conclusion I may remind the members of the Freudian 
school that it behooves them to undergo that same self- 
analysis and self-scrutiny which they justly advise others to 
have. If they do this in a truly critical and impartial way 
they will find that the opposition which they have met has 
not been without foundation. They will find that there 
are serious and all-pervading flaws in their psychology and 
sexology, and that this is responsible for their one-sided and 
distorted analyses and interpretations. Most of the trouble 
will be found in the method of interpretation, flowing out of 
their attitude. They will find that they have been advocat- 
ing a system of theories and conclusions which have been 
followed as a religion, a cult, a creed. And they will correct 
the errors which are so patent to so many of the rest of us. 

It is or should be evident to him who reads between the 
lines and surveys this question as from a mountain top, that 
there is not the slightest proof, not one jot of testimony in 
support of the ideas which Dr. Coriat has given us in his 

As a final word I cannot refrain from remarking that it 
will be a sad day for humanity and for society when psycho- 
neurotics of whatever sort, stammerers, normal individuals 
with their psychopathologic acts of everyday life, and all the 
rest of us, particularly children, shall be subjected to Freud- 
ian psychoanalyses, with the numerous sexual theories and 
sexual implications with regard to everything of vital or 
human concern, as seen especially in family and social rela- 
tions. A study of the origin, nature and evolution of these 
is not only not out of place, but 011 the other hand finds a 

Meyer Solomon 137 

distinct place of honor for purely scientific purposes. Theo- 
ries, however unfounded and untrue, may, not inappro- 
priately, be offered for this purpose. But we come upon a 
decidedly different situation when we have to deal in a 
practical sort of way with individuals, particularly children, 
who are the objects of the experimental application of full- 
blown theories. Kspecially is this so in the case of sexual 

Propagation of such views concerning the origin and 
nature of stammering as are presented to us in Dr. Coriat's 
paper should be sternly discountenanced. Nay more, they 
should be unflinchingly denied and even severely condemned. 
I, for one, protest vigorously against the propagation of such 
views, especially when they represent nothing more than an 
inflated theory. 

The writer wishes to assure Dr. Coriat and the reader 
that his remarks are intended in a thoroughly impersonal 
sort of way. He is concerned only -with the problems in- 
volved. Personalities do not at all enter into the proposi- 
tion. He hopes that his criticism -will be accepted in the 
same spirit in which it is given. If, to the reader, it may 
seem at times that the writer has spoken too strongly, he can 
only say in defense that he has seized upon this occasion as 
the time and the place to so express himself briefly, frankly 
but without malice. The situation more than demands such 
outspoken expression of opinion. 



rington, Am. Jour, of Insanity. Vol. LXXI, No. 4, p. 691. 

The writer has taken the scheme of the instincts which William 
McDougall has given in his book, entitled "An Introduction to 
Social Psychology" and has attempted to show how it may be 
used in studying the problems of mental disorder. The paper falls 
into three parts. In the first part McDougall's conception is pre- 
sented, modified, however, so that it may be better fitted to the 
needs of the psychiatrist. Briefly it is as follows: 

Man has instincts as well as the animals and all his mental 
activity is due to impulses coming from these instincts. An in- 
stinct may be defined as an innate specific tendency of the mind 
which is common to all members of any one species and which 
impels the individual to react to certain definite kinds of stimuli 
with certain definite types of conduct, without having first learned 
from experience the need of such conduct. For example, there is 
an instinct of pugnacity which impels us to attack that which 
injures us or interferes in any way with the attainment of our 
desires, an instinct of flight which impels us to seek escape from 
danger, a parental instinct from which come the impulses that 
lead us to protect and care for our young. But, beside impelling 
the individual to react to certain definite kinds of stimuli with 
certain definite types of conduct, an instinct, when stimulated, 
gives rise in every case to an emotion which is characteristic of it. 
For example, with the instinct of pugnacity, we have the emotion 
of anger; with that of flight, the emotion of fear; with the parental 
instinct, the emotion of love or tender feeling. An instinct, there- 
force, is regarded as a mechanism made up of three parts: 

First, an afferent or cognitive part, through which it is stimu- 

Second, an affective part through which it gives rise to the 
emotion which is characteristic of it. 

Third, an efferent or conative part through which it gives 
rise to a characteristic type of conduct. 

McDougall gives a list of about twelve instincts, each with 


Abstracts 139 

its accompanying emotion. These he regards as primary and the 
source of all thought and action. 

Considering the instincts from the standpoint of evolution, 
one may assume that they first developed in extremely low forms 
of life in order to produce the few and simple reactions of which 
animals low in the scale are capable. One might almost say in 
regard to such primitive organisms, that for each situation an 
instinct is provided and the situation calls forth its appropriate 
reaction almost as automatically as the pressing of an electric 
button causes the ringing of a bell. But, as animals rise higher 
in the scale, the kinds of conduct required become more varied and 
complex. For example, an impulse from the flight or fear instinct, 
in the lower animals, will always produce some simple reaction 
such as flight or concealment. But, in man, the forms of conduct, 
to which it gives rise, may be extremely varied. Thus in one case 
a man may be impelled to run away, in another to work hard at 
some disagreeable task in order to escape the harm which might 
result if he failed to do so. This capacity to direct the instinc- 
tive forces into various forms of activity, we call the capacity 
for adjustment and we may assume that it depends upon the 
operation of certain mechanisms which we may call the mechan- 
isms of adjustment. The mind may, therefore, be regarded as 
made up of certain instincts from which come the impulses that 
give rise to all our mental reactions and certain mechanisms of 
adjustment by which these impulses are directed into the most 
useful forms of activity. 

This conception of the human mind enables us to form some 
idea of how a mental disorder may arise from purely mental causes; 
for it is obvious that conditions may sometimes arise when the 
mechanisms of adjustment will prove inadequate to the demands 
made upon them, when they will be unable to control the instinc- 
tive forces or find for them satisfactory outlet and, as a result, 
these impulses will escape by undesirable channels, giving rise to 
forms of thought and action which we recognize to be abnormal. 
To show that this theory may be successfully applied to explain 
the facts of abnormal psychology, the analysis of an illustrative 
case is presented. This case, which is worked out in considerable 
detail, forms the second section of the paper. It is the case of a 
young man who, partly owing to inherited tendencies and partly 
to environment, developed during early life certain habits and 

1 40 Abstracts 

characteristics which, when he approached maturity and the 
sexual instinct awoke to its full activity, caused the impulses from 
this instinct to be directed into wrong channels, giving rise to a 
psychosis which took the form of a catatonic stupor. 

The conception of mental disorder here presented inevitably 
leads to certain views regarding the causes which give rise to it. 
Since mental health is dependent on capacity for adjustment being 
equal to the demands made upon it, mental disorder must always 
be due to failure to maintain this relationship between capacity 
and needs. The causes of insanity must therefore be of two kinds: 

First, those which make the task of adjustment so difficult as 
to overtax the capacity. 

Second, those which lessen the capacity so that it is unequal 
to the demands made upon it. 

The third section of the paper is a brief discussion of what 
these causes are and how we should deal with them. 

Author's Abstract, 


J3y G. V. Hamilton. Journal of Animal Behavior ; September-Octo- 
ber, 1914, vol. 4, No. 5, pp. 295-318. 

The writer asserts that the work and problems in sexuality 
in human beings place upon the animal behaviorist an obligation 
to lay the necessary foundations for a scientific and thoroughly 
comprehensive investigation of sexual life. This has led him to 
formulate the following two problems in animal behavior: (i) 
Are there any types of infra-human primate behavior which can- 
not be regarded as expressions of a tendency to seek sexual satis- 
faction, but which have the essential objective characteristics of 
sexual activity? (2) Do such sexual reaction-types as homosexual 
intercourse, efforts to copulate with non-primate animals and 
masturbation normally occur among any of the primates, and if 
so, what is their biological significance? 

The author presents a list of the subjects (monkeys and 
baboons) employed in his study; gives a description of the environ- 
mental conditions in his laboratory which is in the midst of a live 
oak woods in Montecito, California, about five miles from Santa 
Barbara; gives a list of the types of situations that were arranged 

Abstracts 141 

by the observer or encountered by the subjects in consequence of 
their sponataneous activities, and under each description of a 
typical situation one or more detailed descriptions of typical 
responses thereto; and finally offers the classification of sexual 
tendencies as expressions of reactive tendencies observed. 

The author then enters into a discussion of the use of the 
term reactive tendency, and explains that this term, according to 
his definition, is meant to explain something more specific than an 
inclination to direct activity toward one of a limited number of 
general ends, and to include both the innate and the acquired 
features of an individual's reactive mechanism. 

He then presents his conclusions which I shall here include 
in full and verbatim, because of the fact that these findings should 
prove of great importance, especially in the light of Freud's theories 
of infantile sexuality. The author states that " At least two, and 
possibly three, different kinds of hunger, or needs of individual 
satisfaction, normally impel the macaque toward the manifestation 
of sexual behavior, viz., hunger for sexual satisfaction, hunger for 
escape from danger and, possibly, hunger for access to an enemy. 

''Homosexual behavior is normally an expression of tendencies 
which come to expression even when opportunities for heterosexual 
intercourse are present. Sexually immature male monkeys appear 
to be normally impelled toward homosexual behavior by sexual 
hungeir. The fact that homosexual tendencies come to less frequent 
expression in- the mature than in the immature male suggests the 
possibility that in their native habitat these animals may wholly 
abandon homosexual behavior (except as a defensive measure), on 
arriving at sexual maturity. 

"Homosexual behavior is of relatively frequent occurrence in 
the female when she is threatened by another female, but it is 
rarely manifested in response to sexual hunger. 

" Masturbation does not seem to occur under normal condi- 

"The macaque of both sexes is apt to display sexual excite- 
ment in the presence of friendly or harmless non-primates. 

"It is possible that the homosexual behavior of young males 
is of the same biological significance as their mock combats. It is 
clearly of value as a defensive measure in both sexes. Homosexual 
alliances between mature and immature males may possess a 

1 42 Abstracts 

defensive value for immature males, since it insures the assistanc 
of an adult defender in the event of an attack. " 



Fletcher. American Journal of Psychology, April, 1914; Vol. XXV, 
pp. 201-255. 

This paper is a dissertation submitted to the faculty of Clark 
University, Worcester, Mass., in partial fulfilment of the require- 
ments for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. It is thus from the 
Psychological Laboratory of Clark University. 

This interesting study of Fletcher includes some general 
remarks in the introduction, the question of differentiation and 
definition, the physiological aspects (including bre.athing, vocaliza- 
tion, articulation and accessory movements), psychophysical 
changes (including volumetric changes, changes in heart rate and 
galvanic changes), a consideration of the interpretation of the 
results, the psychological relations (including emotions, attitudes, 
imagery, responsibility for Aufgabe, psychoanalysis, and associa- 
tion), heredity and conclusions. A valuable bibliography is added, 
and seven illustrative plates complete the paper. 

Fletcher would reserve the word "stammering" for mispro- 
nunciation or incorrect speech, this stutter being anatomical (due 
to malformation of one or more organs of articulation) or develop- 
mental (due to incorrect functioning of the organs of articulation 
resulting in certain cases of immaturity, such as lisping). Stam- 
mering, in this sense, is of no psychological interest. The reviewer 
is in favor of employing the terms "stammering" and "stutter- 
ing" synonymously, as is the practice in England and America. 
The writer (Fletcher) finds that he cannot accept the Freudian 
interpretation of stuttering which has been offered by a number of 
different members of that school. 

Although the entire paper is of interest and of value to the 
student of psychopathology, the purposes of this review can best 
be served by citing the following conclusions of the author: The 
motor manifestations of stuttering are found to consist of asyner- 
gies in the three musculatures of speech breathing, vocalization 
and articulation. Certain accessory movements, which tend to 

Abstracts 143 

become stereotyped in each individual and which consist of tonic 
and clonic conditions of other muscles not involved in normal 
speech, accompany these asynergies. The type of asynergy and 
more particularly of accessory movements differ so widely that it 
is impossible to state that any special form of breathing, or articu- 
lation, or of vocalization is the fundamental factor in stuttering; 
Disturbances of pulse rate, of blood distribution and in psycho- 
galvanic variations, appearing before, during and after the speak- 
ing interval, and the intensity of which varies approximately with 
the severity of the stuttering, accompany the motor manifesta- 
tions of stuttering. The essential condition in stuttering is the 
complex state of mind, the quality rather than the intensity of 
these feeling states governing the rise of stuttering. Such feeling 
states as fear, anxiety, dread,, shame, embarrassment, in fact, 
those feelings that tend toward inhibition and repression, are most 
likely to precede stuttering, and probably operate in a vicious 
circle as both cause and effect. The permanent condition of ner- 
vousness thought to be characteristic of stutterers should be re- 
garded as effect rather than cause. The states of feeling that 
have to do with the production of stuttering vary in degree from 
strong emotions to mere attitudes or moods, the latter being often 
so slight in degree that it is difficult for the subj ect to report their 
presence. Stuttering also seems to be affected by the quality of 
mental imagery, by attention and by association. The affective 
and emotional experiences associated with the pronunciation of 
sounds rather than the nature of the sounds themselves determine 
the rise of stuttering. The author's final remarks are: "Stuttering, 
therefore, seems to be essentially a mental phenomenon in the sense 
that it is due to and dependent upon certain variations in mental 
state. Hence the study of stuttering becomes a specifically psycho- 
logical problem; and it seems evident that a detailed analysis of all 
the various aspects of the phenomena of stuttering will furnish 
important contributions to general psychology/' 



millan and Company, London, 1914. Pp- xxx+532. 

In his preface the author says: "A great difficulty which I 
have found in the course of my work has been to collect the facts- 
or observations of character on which I had to rely- Such material 
as I have obtained has been drawn much more from literature 
than from any other source; and this was inevitable, because 
psychology has hardly begun to concern itself with these ques- 
tions. " This reproach levelled against psychology rebounds on 
the author, for throughout the book he shows himself evidently 
unacquainted with those branches of psychology, notably the 
medical ones, that have contributed so brilliantly and extensively 
to the science of characterology. It need hardly be pointed out, 
further, that to rely on second-hand material, which cannot be- 
checked, analysed, or immediately studied, as the living facts can 
is a procedure that is open to insuperable objections. 

The author repudiates any analytical approach to his problems, 
preferring what he terms "a concrete and synthetic conception 
of character," and so " avoids breaking up the forces of character 
into their elements, and being driven to consider the abstract 
problem of their mutual relation. " His method consists in assum- 
ing the existence of these forces, as part of his working hypothesis, 
and in formulating general laws based on a study of them. As he 
himself puts it, "It is in the first place a method of discovery rather 
than of proof; a method reaching no further than a tentative 
formulation of laws; for organising the more particular under the 
more general; for interpreting the generalised observations which 
every great observer of human nature forms for himself, and by 
this interpretation making some advance towards their organiza- 
tion." It follows from this that the book is predominantly 
descriptive in nature, and in this field it must be said that the 
author has accomplished a great work, one that will be of almost 
indispensable value to future students of the various emotions. 

The book is really a study of the emotions rather than of 
character, and so we have to pay special attention to what the 


Reviews 145 

author has to say concerning them. As is well known, he formu- 
lated some years ago a special conception it can hardly be called 
a theory of the emotions, and the most novel part of the present 
work is the way in which this conception is expounded and elaborat- 
ed in detail. He rejects the usual sense of the term in which it is 
taken to express a certain degree of elaboration of the affective 
aspect of the mind, and adopts a much wider definition in which 
the conative, affective, and cognitive aspects are all represented. 
" c Emotion 7 for us will connote not feeling abstracted from im- 
pulse, but feeling with its impulse, and feeling which has essential- 
ly a cognitive attitude, however vague, and frequently definite 
thoughts about its object." He distinguishes, none the less, 
between an emotion and the entire system to which it belongs. 
It is the part of the system that is present in consciousness, there 
being two other parts that are not; namely, the processes connected 
with it in the body, and the executive part concerned with its 
outward expression and modes of behaviour. The three main 
primary emotions are fear, anger, and disgust; other are curiosity, 
joy, sorrow, self-display, and self-abasement. The four emotional 
systems of anger, fear, joy and sorrow have an innate connection 
not only with one another, but also with every other primary sys- 
tem. Most of the book is taken up with a very detailed study of 
the emotions just enumerated, and in this study the author insists 
on the functional point of view, constantly enquiring into the 
dynamic aspects and tendencies of the emotion under considera r 
tion. This is perhaps the only respect in which it could be seen 
that the book was written within the last forty years. 

Mr. Shand's view of the relation between the emotions and 
the instincts has led to an animated controversy with Dr. Mc- 
Dougall, published in the Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 
for 1914-1915. According to the latter writer, every emotion has 
a corresponding instinct, and is merely the affective aspect of this 
instinct. Mr. Shand, on the contrary, holds that there are vastly 
more instincts than emotions, that a given instinct may enter into 
several different emotional systems, and that each emotional 
system may at various times, and according to its needs, make 
use of almost any number of different instincts. The reviewer is 
unable to determine whether these different points of view have 
any further implications than a difference in the definitions adopted 
by the two writers. McDougall obviously employs the term 

1 46 Reviews 

instinct in a much more comprehensive and inclusive sense than 
Shand does. 

In the discussion of this interrelation there occurs, by the 
way, the following suggestive passage: "There are no fears so 
intense as those which arise in situations from which we cannot 
escape, where we are forced to remain in contemplation of the 
threatening events. There is no anger so intense as when the blood 
boils and all the sudden energy that comes to us cannot vent itself 
on our antagonist. The arrest of an instinct is that which most 
frequently excites the emotion connected with it; and therefore we 
feel the emotion so often before (or after: Reviewer) the instinctive 
behaviour takes place, rather than along with it. 7? This seems 
to after-shadow the modern views on intrapsychical conflict and 

Another conception peculiar to the author, first propounded 
in 1896, is that regarding the sentiments. Sentiments, in the 
author's sense, are "those greater systems of the character the 
function of which is to organize certain of the lesser systems of 
emotions by imposing on them a common end and subjecting them 
to a common cause. " A constant conflict seems to go on between 
the organizing tendency of these sentiments and the tendency of the 
constituent emotions to achieve freedom and autonomous action, 
a conception quite in harmony with the modern views of " complex- 
action, ** although Shand's " sentiments " are far from being synony- 
mous with either "complexes" or "constellations" in our sense. 
The implications that follow from his conception of the sentiments, 
and the importance he attaches to it, are well shown by the follow- 
ing interesting passages. "The result of the modification which 
the systems of the emotions undergo in man, and especially the 
multiplication of the causes which excite and sustain them, is (i) 
to make man the most emotional of animals, and (2) to render 
possible the debasement of his character. For that which is a 
condition of his progress is also a condition of his decline, the 
acquired power of ideas over emotions, and the subsequent power 
of each indefinitely to sustain the other. Hence the existence of 
the emotions constitutes a serious danger for him though not for 
the animals, and the balance which is lost when the emotions are 
no longer exclusively under the control of those causes which 
originally excite them can only be replaced by the higher control 
of the sentiments. There are then three stages in the evolution 

Reviews 1 47 

of emotional systems; the first and primitive, in which they are 
under the control of the stimuli innately connected with their 
excitement, undergoing a certain change through individual ex- 
perience, but not radically altered; the second, in which they 
become dangerous and independent systems; the third, in which 
they are organized under the control of the new systems which 
they are instrumental in developing." " There are three principal in the development of character. Its foundations are those 
primary emotional systems, in which the instincts play at first 
a more important part than the emotions; in them, and as instru- 
mental to their ends, are found the powers of intelligence and will 
to which the animal attains. But even in animals there is found 
some inter-organization of these systems, or, at least, some bal- 
ance of their instincts, by which these are fitted to work together 
as a system for the preservation of their offspring and of them- 
selves. This inter-organization is the basis of those higher and 
more complex systems which, if not peculiar to man, chiefly char- 
acterize him, and which we have called the sentiments, and this 
is the second stage. But character, if more or less rigid in the 
animals, is plastic in man: and thus the sentiments come to develop, 
for their own more perfect organization, systems of self-control, in 
which the intellect and will rise to a higher level than is possible 
at the emotional stage, and give rise to those great qualities of 
character that we name " fortitude," "patience/ 5 "steadfastness," 
"loyalty," and many others, and a relative ethics that is in con- 
stant interaction with the ethics of the conscience, which is chiefly 
imposed upon us through social influences. And this is the third 
and highest stage in the development of character, and the most 
plastic, so that it is in. constant flux in each of us; and the worth 
that we ascribe to men in review of their lives, deeper than their 
outward success or failure, is determined by what they have here 
accomplished. " 

We have given some indication of the positive side of the 
book, one which deserves great praise for both its matter and style. 
On the negative side we have to remark on the following important 
omissions. As was mentioned to start with, no acquaintance 
whatever is shown with either the methods or findings of what may 
broadly be called medical psychology, the only psychology that has 
at its disposal the material on which a science of character could 
be founded. That the important work of Klarges on characterol- 

1 48 Reviews 

ogy is not considered may be accounted for by the fact that there 
is not a single German reference given in the whole book. In the 
second place, the genetic point of view is almost completely over- 
looked, one of cardinal importance in such a field. Thirdly, the 
whole subject of the unconscious is treated as non-existent. It is 
a complete misnomer to entitle a book on descriptive psychology 
"The Foundations of Character" when no notice whatever is 
taken of that region of the mind where the very springs of character 
take their source, and where the most fundamental features of 
character are to be found. Last, but not least, is the absence of 
any study of the sexual instinct and emotions, surely of cardinal 
importance for any investigation of character. Apart from the 
general contributions made by this instinct to character, one 
thinks of such clearly-cut pictures as the masochistic, voyeur, and 
anal types of character. 

An inadequate index closes an unsatisfactory, though in many 
respects valuable, book. We note no fewer than twelve references 
to "Seneca," but none to "sex" or "shame;" sixteen to Hudson, 
but none to Freud, Janet, Prince, Adler, or Klargcs. 


McDougall. Published by John W. Luce & Co., Boston, 1910. 

Although this book was published a few years ago, neverthe- 
less it seems sufficiently important to the reviewer to have it 
brought prominently before psychopathologists. 

In the introduction McDougall reminds us that the instincts 
are the prime movers, the mental forces, the sources of energy, the 
springs of human action, the impulses and motives which deter- 
mine the goals and course of all human activity, mental and 
physical. These instincts, being the fundamental elements of 
our constitution, must be clearly defined, and their history in the 
individual and the race determined. For this purpose, compara- 
tive and evolutionary psychology is necessary, for the life of the 
emotions and the play of motives in mental life are the least sus- 
ceptible of introspective observation and description. "The old 
psychologising, " says McDougall, "was like playing *Hamlet ? 

Reviews 149 

with the Prince of Denmark left out, or like describing steam- 
engines while ignoring the fact of the presence and fundamental 
role of the fire or other sources of heat. " A knowledge of the 
constitution of the mind of man is a prerequisite for any under- 
standing of the life of society in any or all of its many aspects. 
And this applies to psychopathology. I venture to assert that 
had certain individuals read and digested a book of this sort it 
might have been a prophylactic against an exclusively sexual 
conception of human conduct. 

The work is divided into two sections. Section one deals 
with the mental characteristics of man of primary importance for 
his life in society, while section two is concerned with the operation 
of the primary tendencies of the human mind in the life of societies. 
The successive chapters of the first section take up in order the 
following questions: the nature of instincts and their place in the 
constitution of the mind, the principal instincts and the primary 
emotions of man; some general or non-specific innate tendencies; 
the nature of the sentiments and the constitution of some of the 
complex emotions; the development of the sentiments; the growth 
of self-consciousness and of the self-regarding sentiment; the ad- 
vance to the higher plane of social conduct; and volition. In the 
second section the author considers the reproductive and the 
parental instincts, the instinct of pugnacity, the gregarious instinct, 
the instincts through which religious conceptions affect social life, 
the instincts of acquisition and construction, and there is a final 
chapter on imitation, play and habit. 

McDougall dividends the instincts into specific tendencies or 
instincts and general or non-specific tendencies. He calls attention 
to the abuse of the term "instincts" and himself defines an instinct 
as an inherited or innate psychophysical disposition which has the 
three aspects of all mental processes: the cognitive, the affective 
and the conative or a knowing of some object or thing, a feeling 
in regard to it, and a striving towards or away from that object. 
"The continued obstruction of instinctive striving is always ac- 
companied by painful. feeling, its successful progress towards its 
end by pleasurable feeling, and the achievement of its end by a 
pleasurable sense of satisfaction." He reminds us that "the 
emotional excitement, with the accompanying nervous activities 
of the central part of the disposition, is the only part of the total 
instinctive process that retains its specific character and remains 

150 Reviews 

common to all individuals and all situations in which the instinct" 
is excited." We may experience the emotional excitement and 
the impulse to the appropriate movements of an instinct or the 
re-excitement of an instinctive reaction in its affective and coiiative 
aspects without the reproduction of the original idea which led 
to its excitation. Pleasure and pain but serve to guide these 
impulses or instincts in their choice of means towards these ends. 

One of McDougall's important conclusions is that "each of 
the principal instincts conditions some one kind of emotional 
excitement whose quality is specific or peculiar to it, and the 
emotional excitement of specific quality that is the affective aspect 
of the operation of any one of the principal instincts may be called 
a primary emotion. " This is McDougall's definition of emotion. 1 

McDougall then takes up for discussion and analysis the 
principal instincts and t the primary emotions of man which include 
the following: the instinct of flight and the emotion of fear; the 
instinct of repulsion and the emotion of disgust; the instinct of 
curiosity and the emotion of wonder; the instinct of pugnacity and 
the emotion of anger; the instincts of self-abasement (or subjection) 
and of self-assertion (or self-display) and the emotions of subjection 
and elation (or negative and positive self-feeling) ; the parental 
instinct and the tender emotion; and such other instincts of less 
well-defined emotional tendencies as the instinct of reproduction 
(with sexual jealousy and female coyness), the gregarious instinct, 
the instincts of acquisition and construction; and the minor in- 
stincts of crawling, walking, rest and sleep. McDougall denies 
the existence of such instincts as those of religion, imitation, sym- 
pathy and play. 

There then follows a consideration of some general or non- 
specific innate tendencies or pseudo-instincts which arc not specific 
instincts with special accompanying emotions, and this leads to the 
analysis of sympathy or the sympathetic induction of emotion, 
suggestion and suggestibility, imitation, play, habit, disposition and 

The sentiments are now taken up for analysis and definition, 
A sentiment, according to McDougall, who accepts Shand's defini- 
tion, is an organized system of emotional tendencies or dispositions 
centred about the idea of some object. Among the complex, 
emotions not necessarily implying the existence of sentiments 
McDougall includes admiration, awe and reverence, gratitude, 



scorn, contempt and loathing, and envy. Among the complex 
emotions implying the existence of sentiments he considers re- 
proach, anxiety, jealousy, vengeful emotion, resentment, shame, 
joy, sorrow and pity, happiness, surprise. The nature and the 
constitution of the sentiments and the complex emotions comes 
in for very illuminating analysis. The chapters on the growth of 
self-consciousness and of the self-regarding sentiment, the advance 
to the higher plane of social conduct, and volition are to be con- 
sidered among the best chapters of this very excellent work. The 
discussion and analysis is very penetrating and clear. It is well 
worth while presenting the following abstract of the chapter on 
volition: All impulses, desires and aversions, motives or conations 
are of one of two classes: (r) from the excitement of some innate 
disposition or instinct; and (2) from excitement of dispositions 
acquired during the life of the individual by differentiation from 
the innate dispositions, under the guidance of pleasure and pain. 
When in the conflict of two motives the will is thrown on the side 
of one of them and we make a volitional decision, we in some way 
add to the energy with which the idea of the one desired end main- 
tains itself in opposition to its rival. The idea of the self, or self- 
consciousness, is able to play its great role in volition only in virtue 
of the self-regarding sentiment. The conations, the desires and 
aversions, arising within this s'elf-regarding sentiment are the 
motive forces which, adding themselves to the weaker ideal motive 
in the case of moral effort, enable it to win the mastery over some 
str6nger, coarser desire of our primitive animal nature and to 
banish from consciousness the idea of the end of this desire. 

Volition, therefore, following McDougall, may be defined as 
the supporting or re-enforcing of a desire or conation by the co- 
operation of an impulse excited within the system of the self- 
regarding sentiment. The sentiment of. self-control is the master 
sentiment for volition and especially for resolution. It is a special 
development of the self-regarding sentiment. The source of the 
additional motive power, which in the moral effort of volition is 
thrown upon the side of the weaker, more ideal impulse, is ultimate- 
ly to be found in that instinct of self-display or self-assertion whose 
affective aspect is the emotion of positive self-feeling. These 
remarks are given more or less verbatim. 

McDougall next analyzes strength of character which he 
differentiates from disposition and temperament which are innate. 


In section two., as stated previously, the author takes up for 
separate and more minute analysis the family (the reproductive 
and the parental) instincts, the instinct of pugnacity, the gregari- 
ous instinct, the instinctive bases of religion, and the instincts of 
acquisition and construction. Imitation, play and habit receive 
separate treatment in the final chapter. 

The reviewer can freely recommend this book as one ofthe best, 
if not the best book of this sort that has come into his hands. His 
personal opinion is that it is the best. McDougall presents us with 
an acceptable and clean-cut classification of the instincts, emotions 
and sentiments, he accurately defines these terms, he gives the 
analysis and constitution of these instincts, emotions and senti- 
ments, and develops the motive sources of human conduct. He 
adopts many original and novel standpoints. He is an indepen- 
dent thinker. He has here presented us with a book which, 
because of its clearness and its frank meeting of the problems, is of 
the utmost value to the psychopathologist and the psychiatrist. 
In fact the contents of just such a work as this should be the first 
lesson of every worker in this field. In this way only can he really 
begin to understand human conduct. 

This work should find its place in the forefront of those books 
which should be read and digested by all workers in any of the 
social sciences. 

For the reviewer it has been a genuine pleasure to read and 
to review this book and he most heartily recommends it to the 
reader of these pages. 




and Index. Nervous and Mental Diseases Monograph Series, 
No. 19, 1915, $1.50. 

Pp. IX plus 293. Dodd, Mead & Co., 1915. #1.25 net. 

plus 830. Little, Brown & Co., 1915. #5.00 net. 

HUMAN MOTIVES. By /. /. Putnam. Pp. XVII plus 179. 
Little, Brown & Co., 1915. $1.00 net. 




Psychiatric Institute, Wartfs Island 


Assistant Surgeon, U. S. Public Health Service 

MOST psychiatrists state or tacitly assume that de- 
mentia praecox is a disease of a steadily progressive 
nature, where the first symptom of dementia is a 
signal for relentless degradation of the patient's 
mental capacity except in the sphere of the more mechanical, 
intellectual functions. Yet the experience of every institu- 
tional physician denies the universality of this deterioration, 
and the statistics in any good text book demonstrate that 
many cases are " chronic' 3 rather than "deteriorating." 
Woodman f has made a careful study of 144 such chronic 
cases, and shows what a surprisingly large proportion of these 
develop a good adaptation to the artificial environment of 
the institution. So far as we know, however, no one has 
attempted to formulate any definite features of onset which 
could be taken as a guide in determining the gravity of the 
mental derangement. In fact Bleuler states categorically 
that "up to the present no correlation has been discovered 
between the symptoms of onset and the gravity of the out- 
come." Kraepelin has split off from dementia praecox a 
separate psychosis Paraphrenia systematica which he 
timidly defends as a clinical entity apparently because the 
course is a long one and the deterioration less marked than 
in dementia praecox. But he gives us no concise prognostic 
data; in fact one feels on reading his paper that the diagnosis 
must be made post hoc. This problem is manifestly of equal 

*Read at the sixth annual meeting of the American Psychopathological 
Association, May 5, *9i5> New York City. 

fR. C. Woodman, N. Y. State Hospital Bulletin, Vol. II, No. 2, 1909. 


154 Constructive Delusions 

importance from the social and the scientific standpoint: 
until we can predict the outcome our treatment must be 
empiric and palliative; we confess ourselves ignorant of the 
disease process if we cannot make a prognosis. 

It is possible to make certain a priori speculations as 
to prognostic criteria based on classification and what that 
implies. We know that pure paranoia is not a deteriorating 
psychosis that it does not necessarily preclude the possibil- 
ity of considerable social usefulness and that it grades off 
almost imperceptibly into dementia praecox. The features 
differentiating these two diseases should therefore supply 
us with data for determining the prognosis. A case undoubt- 
edly^praecox, which shows markedly the differential features 
of paranoia, should have a proportionately better outlook. 
In a vague way our common sense uses this standard when 
it makes us "feel" that the case will have a long course which 
shows a relatively well retained personality in conjunction 
with praecox symptoms. But "feelings" are hardly objec- 
tive criteria. What symptoms may we make use of? We 
may say that the praecox patient as opposed to the paranoia 
has a poverty or inappropriateness of affect, a scattering of 
thought and a lack of systematization in his delusions. 
The weakness of will on which Kraepelin lays so much stress 
may be included, though that can probably be' derived from 
the scattering of thought. What of these symptoms may be 
analyzed for our purpose? Affect changes and dissociation 
in the stream of thought are themselves signs of the deteriora- 
tion we wish to predict; to make use of them we should have 
at hand some theory as to the relation between their quality 
and quantity, and that we have not. There remains the 
content of the psychosis, a definitely objective material with 
which to work. This is naturally a big problem almost as 
wide as insanity itself and one brief communication cannot 
pretend to solve it. What we wish to do is merely to put 
Forward tentatively the claim of one type of delusion forma- 
tion to prognostic value. 

Now if delusions are to be an index to deterioration 
they must in some way hold a mirror to the changes in the 
personality, repeat them or prefigure them. If we generalize 
our conception of functional dementia, we can say that one 

John T. MacCurdy^M. ZX and Walter L. Treadway 155 

of its most striking features is a destruction of the faculty of 
appropriate reaction, a loss of what one may term the sense 
of reality. The patient in direct proportion to the degree 
of his dementia loses his capacity to recognize the reality of 
his environment or his relationship to it, and builds up more 
and more a world of his own in which he lives untroubled by 
the demands of adaptation. No one who has ever argued 
with a paranoic will forget how keen a sense of reality he may 
retain, how logical his arguments are, and how reasonable 
his delusions appear, if only some one point be granted. 
With the praecox, however, the opposite impression may be 
quite as striking. His delusions are bizarre, inconsistent, 
kaleidoscopic; he has no logical explanation and cannot even 
state them consecutively. And all gradations from pure 
paranoia to dementia praecox seem to have corresponding 
losses in the sense of reality as embodied in delusions. 

May we not hope to find in the content of the psychosis 
some objective criterion as to the degree in which the sense 
of reality is lost, with all that it implies ? 

But what takes the place of the sense of reality or what 
causes it to go? With what tendency of the psychotic 
individual is it in conflict? The answer is a psychological 
truism the indulgence in fancies. Imagination, of course, 
is essential to every human being, no purposeful action can 
be instituted without its first being carried out in imagina- 
tion. Phantastic .thinking begins when the subject fails to 
apply the test of reality to his mental image and exclude it if 
it be not adapted to realization. If environment or internal 
inhibitions prevent this realization, however, the craving 
lying back of the fancy must be diverted to a more practical 
channel the normal solution or the fancy must persist 
in spite of its impracticability. This -latter process is the 
germ of the psychosis. But not its development. A certain 
compromise may be reached he who digs for gold in his 
back-yard is not so crazy as -he who reaches out his hand for 
the moon. Nor is the paranoic who chooses to put his inter- 
pretation on the surliness of his employer as far estranged 
from reality as the praecox who recognizes his employer in 
the person of the physician. The content of the psychosis 
may then express the relative strength of the two antagonis- 

156 Constructive Delusions 

tic factors, sense of reality and fancy, the two factors whose 
relative importance decide the issue for sanity or insanity, 
It is easier to imagine than to act, so no human being is 
free of this tendency. But what does the normal man doi 
He diverts these thoughts into channels where fancy has a 
legitimate place he writes romances; he imagines himseU 
using an instrument to talk with his friend miles away and 
invents the telephone; he imagines a better society than the 
one which galls him, and writes a " Utopia "; above all he 
theorizes and speculates. According to his age or ability 
these speculations give us alchemy or chemistry, astrology 01 
astronomy, magic or religion, spiritism or psychology, the 
were-wolf or psycho-analysis, phrenology or psychiatry, and 
so on. Now three generalizations can be made about these 
primitive or elaborated philosophizings : first, they all repre- 
sent a constructive tendency; second, the degree to which 
this constructive tendency is exhibited is historically a 
measure of the cultural development of any age, an index oi 
the development of the sense of reality of the time, that is, 
the particular speculation is not only accepted as reasonable 
but has its practical application for the period; and third, 
the more primitive forms of these speculations arc represent- 
ed in -the delusions of insane, particularly dementia praecox, 
patients. Following a suggestion of Dr. Hoch we have 
termed these ideas "constructive delusions/' As they 
correspond to what was historically a compromise between 
reality and phantasy, they should represent a corresponding 
mildness or severity in the psychosis where they appear. 
Our observations far from being extensive have so far 
demonstrated this that we feel justified in offering the 
hypothesis that when such delusions are present one can base 
a mild prognosis on their presence with a rather specific 
relationship between the crudity of construction and the 
degree of deterioration. It must be borne in mind, however, 
that we make no claim as to the invariable presence of such 
delusions when marked deterioration does not take place. 
We hope only to show that when present this particular 
form of content may constitute a valuable prognostic guide, 
as it represents the degree to which the patient has gone 
in recapitulating the history of his civilization. 

John T. MacCurdy, M. D. and Walter L. Treadway 157 

It should be understood that we are not describing 
highly unusual cases; many such have been published. A 
highly typical one is given by Freud in his analysis of the 
Schreber case.* In this extremely stimulating paper Freud 
puts forward the claim that all delusions are an attempt at 
regaining health on the part of the psyche. From a broad 
psychological standpoint, this is undoubtedly true but the 
generalization is too wide to be of any practical psychiatric 
value. Moreover, by choosing for analysis a case which was 
neither dementia praecox nor paranoia but a combination 
of the two, he reaches conclusions which are valuable addi- 
tions to our knowledge of psychotic processes but merely 
confuse the issue as to the specific mechanisms of paranoia 
and dementia praecox. In Schreber a profound psychotic 
reaction corresponded to crude formulations of his fancies, 
whereas, when he built these ideas into constructive specula- 
tions, he became relatively sane and an efficient citizen. 
If Freud had emphasized the point that this later formulation 
was more than a vehicle for the cruder thoughts, that it 
contained components which were potentially of social 
value., which implied a broader contact with the world 
had lie done this then the present paper would be super- 

The first case we wish to present, John McM., is 
at present thirty-six years of age, unmarried, a Catholic. 
For at least nine years he has been objectively psychotic, 
though, according to his own account his delusional habit 
of thought began seventeen years ago- He had little educa- 
tion but made the most of it and has read widely (for one of 
his station) on such topics as socialism. He was always 
somewhat distant and did not make friends easily. From 
early childhood he was antagonistic towards his father and 
brother and, since his mother's death six years ago, to whom 
he was strongly attached, towards an aunt as well. He has 
struck both his father and his aunt. His antagonism to- 
wards his father is of great importance as a determinant for 
his later symptoms. When young he feared him, as he 
grew older disputed his authority and, according to the 

*Psychoanalytische Bemerkungen iiber einen autobiographischen beschrieben 
Fall von Paranoia (Dementia paranoides). Jahrb. f. psychoanalyt. u. psychopath. 
Forschnngen, Jahrg. III. 

158 Constructive Delusions 

father, always disobeyed him. He was always shy with 
women and, as we shall see, his first conflict in the sexual 
sphere was solved by a psychotic reaction. Once an efficient 
salesman, for the past nine years he has drifted from one 
position to another. As he says himself., he lost ambition 
after he decided not to get married, and concluded he would 
not attempt to gain worldly possessions, but merely enough 
to subsist on. His early life showed not so much tendency 
towards elation and depression as towards imaginative 
thinking with a leaning towards day-dreaming and "mys- 
teries," Of late years his reading has been confined to sex- 
ual topics, as discussed by various quacks, astrology, phre- 
nology, Christian Science, and religion. Although he said 
he discovered God for himself he never gave up the Catholic 
religion. Gradually his energy has been so engrossed by 
these interests that he. lost position after position as a result 
of continually talking of his ideas to his fellow workers 
or employers* This tendency eventually led to his commit- 
ment, but as long ago as 1906 a physician said he was insane. 
For the past six years he has been cross, stubborn and self- 
willed so that none of family dared to speak to him. He 
ev,en left home and took a furnished room by himself. In 
spite of this evident anti-social tendency he speaks of himself 
as having been filled during this period with a great hope; he 
has been looking into the future and content that he will 
reach the goal and sees happiness in the future. For some 
months he had talked much of the world coming to an end 
and said that those who had money should spend it as it 
would soon do them no good. He wanted every one to 
divide his money with him as, he said, everything belonged 
to God. Many people were against him and he wrote letters 
about this to various officers. It was when he showed some 
of these to an assemblyman that he was advised to go to 
Observation Pavilion. 

When he arrived at Manhattan State Hospital he was 
quiet and agreeable, cooperated readily with his examination 
and seemed to take his incarceration as a matter of course, 
though he has always had mild arguments to prove that he 
should be allowed parole. A certain degree of deterioration 
is evidenced by his failure to make much of an effort in this 

John T. MacCurdy, M. D. and Walter L. Treadway 159 

direction, although such effort would be immediately success- 
ful. In his manner he was quiet, occasionally somewhat 
affected and when talking of his ideas was apt to assume an 
expression bordering on ecstasy. At no time did he show 
an inappropriate affect or any evidence of scattering or flight. 
He could talk quite objectively of his idea. He had had 
only one halucinatory experience and even it should, per- 
haps, be called merely an illusion. "On the I4th of March, 
1912.," he said "I came face to face with God Almighty. 
He spoke in a Jewish dialect and was dressed as a carpenter." 
The patient was in the Cathedral at the time and that night 
he had a vision of this man, though this may have been just 
a dream. He also heard Bishop H. speak of the man who 
had come to prepare the world for the second coming of 
Christ. The bishop looked at this patient which meant 
that he, the patient, was the man. 

Before detailing his ideas it may be well to outline 
their general tendency. In his psychosis he succeeded in 
fulfilling the wish of the Persian enemy of reality: 

" Ah, Love, could you and I with Him conspire 
To grasp this sorry scheme of things entire, 
Would we not shatter it to bits and then 
Remould it nearer to the heart's desire." 

By the simple expedient of translating his interest from this 
world to that of spirits he built up a new Heaven and a new 
Earth, where he was supreme and his chief enemy, his 
father, was subject to him. Beginning with astrology he 
found that his father's sign and his showed different charac- 
ters, the father's strong in earthly affairs, while the patient's 
showed preeminence in spiritual qualities. Passing from 
astrology to the Heavens, he discovered that his father 
had been Jehovah, while he had been Christ. There had 
been a struggle between them in which the father had been 
temporarily successful. But when his father's spirit had 
entered into a body, he had become subject to Christ. In 
the Heaven to come, Jehovah was to give way to precedence 
to Christ, was to enjoy with the Virgin Mary, his mother, a 
union of love, as much more fervid as it was to be free from 

160 Constructive Delusions 

carnal features. In extolling this life of the spirit the patient 
excluded that physical problem which had caused him so 
much trouble the adult sexual demand which, in the form 
of marriage he could not agree to meet nor yet to put out of 
his mind. At the same time this religious formulation gave 
him a comfortable ascendancy over his hated rival, his 
father. But it gives him more than this: he has a mission, 
he says, he must prepare the way for the new world, the new 
heaven. This is an objective interest and it is that, we think, 
which has a causal connexion with his mild degree of de- 
terioration for he has been. what we must regard as a 
praecox for many years and yet has lost so little of his person- 
ality that to a layman he would certainly be regarded as 
little more than a crank. Where his system fails of having 
a sane outlet it is of course in the fact that his prophecy has 
little to do with anything of advantage to others. It is 
merely a cover for self-glorification. 

At nineteen he talked to his friend W. of sexual matters, 
and, being troubled with constipation and "rheumatism" 
at the time, he asked the physician who was treating him as 
to whether he should indulge himself sexually. The phy- 
sician told him to, but he worried over this advice and went 
to a priest, who said for him to get married. This he did 
not wish to do, and so turned his attention to astrology and 
phrenology, the other subjects which his friend talked of. 
That this was only a cover for his original sex problem is 
shown by his conclusions: that he had a weakness in am 
ativeness "the faculty of sexual power," his " concentra- 
tion" on sexual matters was poor. "If I had more amative- 
ness there would be trouble; I am glad I haven't so much. 
I was always more of a companion to my mother, and when 
I wasn't with her I went to the theatre with W. " He and 
his father, he learned, had strong faculties of destructive- 
ness; the patient, however, could control his by reasoning; 
his reasoning was so strong that he could even control his 
father and settle disputes between father and mother. 
Phrenology also taught him his intellectual superiority to 
his father in other ways. 

From phrenology he learned' there was a time to be 
born; from this he passed to astrology. His father had 

John T. MacCurdy, M. D. and Walter L. Treadway 161 

arranged that he should be born in the sign of Virgo, which 
guaranteed his truthfulness and obedience to his father. He 
explained this by speaking of Adam and Eve disobeying 
God, from whose sexual intercourse all evils sprang. Mani- 
festly, then, it was his father's arrangement that he should 
have to abstain from sexual intercourse. 

His father was born in the sign Gemini; this is a fighting 
sign; the father selected this sign himself, by his great fight- 
ing power; the sign is not a spiritual one but a worldly one, 
and shows avarice in great grasping of worldly things. He 
never thought that his father was so great, until three or 
four years ago. He wrote a minister, asking him what 
became of God the Father; he asked another man about 
religion, and was told how obedient Christ was to his" foster- 
father Joseph, He thought of how disobedient he was to his 
father, and then decided that his father was the God, the 
Father, and in the Kingdom of Heaven he was called 
Jehovah. (Here he identifies himself with Christ). He 
says about this "I tried to reason myself away from it many 
times, but was finally convinced" The father came to this 
world as John; Jehovah was the patient's father in the other 
world. In the other world he had a falling out with the 
father, and now the father has that revenge in his soul. He 
had some kind of a falling out, a fight; his father, then Jeho- 
vah, ruled the third Heaven; one of the twelve, which he 
says is about the earth, the earth making the thirteenth; 
this formulation he derived from astrology: the first Heaven 
Aries, the second Taurus, and the third Gemini, etc. 

His father was born in the sign of Gemini, whose symbol 
is the twins, whicli means a duel; and people born In this sign 
have a dual nature; the father had a dual nature; and when 
the father ruled in the third Heaven as Jehovah, a duel took 
place between the patient and the father, and the son's 
spirit was separated from a body and roamed about. After 
a time the patient's spirit got back into the Kingdom by 
worrying the father, but he was never admitted in the form 
of a body. The father and son while still in a body could 
both create man and woman; the patient then knew all about 
creation, and was endowed with all the powers the father 
possessed, and helped the father to build up that kingdom; 

1 62 Constructive Delusions 

but when the patient's spirit was separated from the body 
his powers became less, so that he could not create a human 
being. His physical personality was weakened by this, 
but the spirit of love was increased; the father had carried 
revenge in his soul since then. The patient was never a 
ruler of a Heaven, but "I was my father's son I was next 
to him the sons never become rulers unless they win out;" 
the patient's spirit remained out of his body until he was 
born into this world; the patient's father came to this world 
as John, and married Mary McE.; when the father came on 
earth he placed himself under the jurisdiction of Christ; 
this came about automatically when the father was born. 

In the next Heaven the patient will be on the same 
plane as Christ, but perhaps in a lesser degree. There can 
be only one father, and he will be under Christ's jurisdiction. 
Christ will be supreme. He is part of the Trinity; there is 
one God as three united persons; they agree on everything; 
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. These will be possessed of 
equal powers, but one will be looked upon as the father, and 
another Son, and another the Holy Ghost. In the new 
Heaven he will have equal rights and powers with the 

After the father married two children were born, 
brothers, the younger being the patient. He says about this 
that he was born in the usual way, "The spirit entered the 
womb of the mother from outside, and from the seed of the 
father, and I was born by the will of the father." Christ 
was born of Mary through the will of Jehovah simply the 
spirit entered the womb and and the word was made flesh. 
When the father lived as Jehovah he created Adam and Eve, 
"I was simply my father's son and son of Jehovah perhaps 
my name was John, which had some great meaning" 
Jehovah was the greatest spirit in the universe, but is not 
now, for when he was born he placed himself under the juris- 
diction of Christ; his name is now John, the patient's father. 
Christ was selected to be the son of Jehovah; he was selected 
by Jehovah because Jehovah had a great personality; his 
father arranged all of this, and he even selected the sign that 
the patient was to be born in. When asked who he is, he 

John T. MacCurdy, M. Z>. and Walter L. Treadway 163 

said, "I am who I am When I was positive that I am who 
I claim to be. " 

When the patient's spirit was thrown out of the body, 
it caused Adam and Eve to be created Eve was a great 
spirit in the third heaven the father thought that if he 
could create two persons, and they were congenial to each 
other, that Adam's soul would be increased or developed by 
being in company with Eve. When Adam and Eve were 
created they were not to have sexual intercourse; they were 
merely to come in contact by spoken words love could 
exist without intercourse; it started all the trouble. To 
Adam and Eve two sons were born, and the brotherly love 
that existed turned to fire and hatred. They probably 
became jealous of each other, and so one deceived the other. 
At one time he said that perhaps the mother made more over 
one than she did the other; again, perhaps father and mother 
might have favored one more than the other; hence jealousy 
arose; his brother was born in the sign of Capricorn, which 
ordinarily is a sign which is congenial to Virgo; his brother, 
however, is a crank and not congenial; the brother is jealous 
of the patient, because the mother favored the patient. 

He did not take his mother's death to heart, as he had 
expected for two years that she would die. His aunt said 
that he told her it was a good thing the mother was dead. 
He says that in the other heaven, Jehovah's wife was Martha, 
a sister of the Virgin Mary. In this life she was Mary; the 
father may have had many wives in the third heaven; perhaps 
his mother's sisters were his wives, as they seem attracted 
to him. His mother's soul existed before birth, lived in 
Jerusalem in the time of Christ, and was Mary's sister. His 
mother was born in the eighth sign and could be trusted with 
great secrets; his mother kept things to herself. She was 
both feminine and masculine; that is, she was strong and 
sociable. In the sign in which he was born they have great 
spiritual conception, keen, searching and penetrating vision; 
The symbol is the Virgin, and pride makes them more femi- 
nine than masculine, and they are sensitive; he at one time 
was more feminine than now, which was due to his sensitive- 
ness. The sign of Virgo is the mid-heaven, where love is 
more intent; there they understand each other, and there is 

164 Constructive Delusions 

no disagreement. "The magnet of the male and the magnet 
of the female are attracted, and they agree with each other 
in words spoken; this is true love, like that which existed 
between Christ and the Virgin Mother; the Virgin Mother 
was born in that sign there's where she got her name. " 

When he dies the soul of his mother will enter heaven. 

In heaven Christ is to raise his mother's soul from purga- 
tory, and she will become the Virgin Mary. A spirit rapping 
in the house, which began shortly after his mother's death, 
is her spirit and his guardian angel. 

Jehovah was jealous of Christ as a greater spirit, so had 
him. crucified. Joseph was also jealous of Christ because 
Mary loved him more. 

Further ramifications of his ideas are the cruder concep- 
tions that semen is the equivalent of thought, and that 
thoughts of women cause him to have nocturnal emissions. 
Semen comes from food; to the sacrament he gives a definite- 
ly sexual significance^ and it was following communion that 
he realized that he was Christ. 

At one time he thought he could live, and that he could 
marry a girl and not have sexual intercourse; because if he 
got married and had sexual love trouble would arise. He was 
convinced by what he saw of his friends and every one else 
he knew, his aunt, his mother and father, that they did not 
get along well. The Divine Power knowing that this could 
not be in this world, broke the affections he had for this girl; 
and he concluded he would never get married. From a 
worldly point of view he knew that he was a failure; he had 
failed in all his business. But he did not care for worldly 
things. When he reached this point he knew that he had a 
mission to perform, and began to write and preach religion 
to people who were qualified to understand. He wrote 
many letters, all dealing with religion, saying that he had to 
get things ready for the second coming of Christ; that he 
was the successor of Christ; and that he was to get things in 
readiness for the union of religion; when there should be 
one Shepherd and one Fold. 

Case 2. The next case differs from, the first in that the 
emphasis in the ideas was laid more on spiritistic and astro- 

John T. MacCurdy, M. D. and Walter Z,. Treadway 165 

logical than on religious lines. Another difference in the 
problems solved by the psychosis is that the personality of 
the patient was not incompatible with an outlet to the 
adult sexual demand through the channel of prostitution 
but a basic similarity lies in the fact that the delusions center 
around attachment to her father, again a family situation. 
The patient is an unmarried woman now forty-seven years 
of age, of whose early life we know nothing. She had applied 
for aid to a charity organization who, becoming suspicious 
on the report of a police captain that the woman was a 
street walker, sent her to the Cornell Psychopathological 
Clinic for mental examination. She had some petty com- 
plaints of not being fed properly where she lived, of things 
not being clean there and of the women around her being 
queer. Then she launched spontaneously into her delusional 
story, needing very few questions to stimulate a fairly com- 
plete recital. Throughout all her talk she showed no ab- 
normalities in her train of thought. She talked in a quiet 
way of her " knowledge" but with enthusiasm, smiling 
frequently but more in a satisfied or sociable way than with 
any silly expression. There was not a trace of ecstasy in her 
expression. It would have been hard to say definitely that 
she had any inappropriate affect. At a later interview, 
however, she admitted recent acts of prostitution with no 
embarrassment whatever, 

Her psychotic experiences began some ten years ago 
when she entered into illicit relations with an elderly married 
man R., in the South. A year before she had met a "master- 
mind" who told her that she would never be seen in the 
right light. Everything came as he predicted. Her lover 
soon los.t his sexual capacity and so began to show his power 
by keeping her under his control but still at arm's length. 
But she has fooled him for now she has his power. This 
power was in the form of " influences. " When they worked 
on her she would have a throbbing like a typewriter in her 
head, and would then be forced to some act. Such acts 
included affairs with various men and through R/s influences 
she also lost many positions. For some time she tried to 
get him to support her, as it was his "influences" that had 
ruined her, but he merely called her a blackmailer and had 

1 66 Constructive Delusions 

her put out of his office. Soon, however, as the result of 
visions she learned that her father (who is dead) had become 
Christ in the other world. It was all his influence that had 
been acting on her through the medium of R. From 
Astrology she learned that she had been born under two 
planets Jupiter, Influence; and Neptune, Spiritual. Her 
father's sign was Neptune and he was therefore a spiritual 
man. Shortly after his death, she had a vision of him 
floating up towards the moon and then she knew that he 
was joining her ethereally. She had visions of this Father- 

When we turn to the constructive side of these delusions 
we find that she regards all her experiences as having been 
designed by the Father-Christ to give her training, training 
that would increase her psychic powers. For instance, she 
said part of her training had been frequent accusations of 
dishonor with men she never knew. She had to acquit her- 
self of these charges; thus she gained power. Then she 
found that she did not even need to expostulate. She could 
defy them, defy the whole world. As soon as she knew she 
was not guilty she felt power. Things she was guilty of, she 
knew were right for her, because she gained power by these 
experiences. This was because through them she learned 
spiritistic facts and knowledge is power. According to her 
system one mind acts over another by greater penetrating 
power, though the recipient must be powerful too. Some- 
times she found that she had to be reduced by lack of food 
or other privation to receive influence. Naturally, too, she 
could communicate with the dead and had many examples 
of this power to offer. She had learned, also, about the 
influence of the planets over the human brain and how to 
learn of conditions which exist for any person what he 
should avoid and what to accept. As the patient was only 
seen for little over an hour the details of her system of ideas 
could not be obtained but she assured the examiner that 
she never could tell all she knows about the spirit world. 
In general, however, she said that all her knowledge was 
useful to her and she could give it to others individually 
without effort to herself but that she had no way of giving 
it directly to the world. If she had a rest and got well 

John T. MacGurdy, M. D. and Walter L. Treadway 167 

connected socially perhaps she might be able to do it. 
People who had met her casually told her that she had done 
them good. But she could never tell them about having 
seen Christ, they don't understand. The egoism of her 
faith is shown by her statement that, having met Christ in 
practical life, she had no more use for any church or ritual. 
Her great hope was for the future. When she passed away, 
she was to develop her powers more and when reincarnated 
was to come back with the big minds of the world. Once 
she had a vision of herself in some high trees and the "Master 
mind" told her what it meant. In the future she would 
have a great mind. She has it now, but the circumstances 
of her life are such that it is not recognized. 

The essential feature of this case, for our purpose, 
is that we have in this woman a paranoid psychosis of a 
definitely dementia praecox type which after ten years has 
shown only suggestive signs of deterioration in her lack of 
purpose in work, and her dulling in emotional response* 
This failure to deteriorate seems to stand in definite 'relation- 
ship to her system of ideas. That these have a constructive 
tendency is shown by the translation of her cruder thoughts 
into the setting of the occult with the suggestion of propagan- 
da and in their pragmatic value. With her " new religion 5 ' 
she has provided herself with an argument in favor of a life 
of desultory prostitution and general vagabondage. She 
was advised to go to a hospital but refused, though she will 
certainly be committed soon, as it is inevitable that she will 
run counter to society in some way. 

Such cases as these first two are familiar to you all and 
these have been chosen for this paper practically at random. 
Any large hospital will provide dozens of similar history 
whose clinical pictures would serve as well as what we have 
given. The next two cases represent two special types of 1 
psychoses: one a chronic manic and the other a definite 
praecox with recurrent attacks. Any institutional physician 
is familiar with the chronically elated patient, who has 
become a hospital character a good worker often who seems 
to be sufficiently repaid for his toil by the privilege of stop- 
ping the passerby to expound his ideas. Such a case is 

1 68 Constructive Delusions 

usually diagnosed as a chronic manic or a dementia praecox, 
according to the taste of the examiner. 

Numerous works have demonstrated how the symbolism 
of the modern fraternal organization has grown out of al- 
chemy, mysticism and rosicrucianism. Some centuries ago 
these symbols were charged with, a literal meaning. If a 
man, however., in the 2Oth century attaches a similar sig- 
nificance to these symbols he is rightly adjudged insane. 
For instance., no one in a modern civilization can retain his 
mental balance and believe in a literal, physical rebirth. 
The patient whose case we shall now briefly recite had done 
this. He was observed at only one set interview because it 
was found that a few questions, apparently innocent, led 
to the awakening of some cruder ideas to which he reacted 
rather strongly with the statement that the physician was 
accusing him of harboring murderous designs which were, 
as a matter of fact, not even remotely suggested. The 
patient C. G,, is a Hebrew, married, age sixty-one. When 
forty he 1 had an attack of excitement lasting a few weeks. 
He was admitted to the Manhattan State Hospital in Octo- 
ber 1899 and remained till April 14, 1900 with a similar 
attack. He was readmitted in April 1901 again in an excite- 
ment and has remained there ever since. It is claimed that 
these attacks were all preceded by a spree. The records of 
these admissions state that he was excited for some years, 
apparently with exacerbations, during which he is frequently 
noted as being delusional and hallucinating. No content is 
noted so that we cannot give the development of his ideas. 
He does not hallucinate now. All we know is that for five 
or six years he was a rather intractable patient, who worked 
intermittently but that of more recent years he has sufficient- 
ly adapted himself to the hospital environment to be granted 
ground parole which he uses largely to do a considerable 
amount of quite useful work- Any one who has once talked 
to him is saluted from a distance with the words "Pleased 
to meet you, Doctor!" "Five fingers up!" or "Da licgt 
der schwarze Hund begraben!" All this is followed by an 
elated volubility. When asked what "Pleased to meet 
you!" meant, he said that was the password for entrance 
to the "Fellowship Lodge" of a certain fraternal order. He 

John T. MacCurdy, M. D. and Walter L. Treadway 169 

produced a match box with the insignia on it of a Grade in 
the Lodge. With this match box, once off Ward's Island, 
he insisted that it could get him his bread all the -world over 
and hundreds of friends. He would never have been 
committed had he not been drunk and forgotten to make 
use of his signs. The world belongs to the Fellowship of 
Men. He spoke of his wife's ill treatment of him and then 
went on to "I am married to the American flag and it will 
go to the grave with me." This referred, he explained, to 
joining the red, white and blue lodge. "Five fingers up!" 
was shaking hands, the clasped hands on his match box. 
These hands, he said, were those of Moses and the Lord, for 
Moses was a "Fellowman, " which is like the Fellowship of 
the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. However, he went on to 
say that Moses, the Trinity and God were all a dream; 
Israel and the High Grade are real the High Grade is the 
Lord. G. stands for God and he belongs to the G 'Lodge, 
therefore he belongs to God's Lodge. But he has a uniform 
of the High Grade at home, so he must be the High Grade 
himself. By using the symbols of his order in this way he 
disposes of his wife who has not treated him well, identifies 
himself with God (while he abolishes the regular God) and 
endows himself with the supremest power in a Lodge which 
he regards as omnipotent in the world. Another group of 
his ideas refer to his race. He has been put on Ward's 
Island as a result of the great struggle between Christians 
and Israel. But Israelites are the head of the Fellowship 
Lodge, so all Christians must follow him, the patient. 

This is the explanation of "Da liegt der schwarze 
Hund begraben!" He is like a dog in the house and he is 
considered to be nobody, a corpse on the floor. But he really 
lies here buried the missing man of the tribe. Once off 
Ward's Island, therefore, he will come to life as head of 
Israel, and head of the omnipotent Lodge. Patiently, hope- 
fully, he awaits rebirth. The egoism of these ideas is 
obvious. Wherein do the constructive factors lie? Simply in 
this: this expansiveness could easily be formulated directly. 
But he does not do so. His ideas include two objective and 
potentially altruistic interests his lodge and his race. He 
is interested in them; in fact one can probably say that it is 

170 Constructive Delusions 

just in so far as he is insane that the selfish determination 
for these interests become manifest. 

We have also studied two cases of recurring excitements 
in patients one of whom was an evident praecox, the other 
of doubtful classification. Both showed queer behavior 
during their intervals with mild indications of their ideas 
which gained freer expression in their attacks. These 
episodes showed, of course, markedly a typical feature in a 
tremendous amount of queer behavior and more excitement 
than true elation. As there was nothing in their ideas essen- 
tially different in principle from the cases already quoted, 
they need not be further detailed. 

The last case, R. E. O'M., is one of no less interest from 
a formal standpoint than from a psychological one, while 
the trend presented is so copious that it can well serve as a 
resume of the cases we have just recited. He is now an 
unmarried man of thirty-three, and although he was diag- 
nosed dementia praecox ten years ago is now earning $1200 
year as a stenographer in the government service. His 
father was an Irishman banished from Great Britain because 
of his political agitations. His mother was a French woman 
of Huguenot extraction who died of cancer before the patient 
reached his teens but to whom he was greatly attached. 
He has a sister two years older than himself, given to hysteric 
attacks, for whom his love is "Platonic," to use his own 
term. Although of more than normal intellectual vigor,' 
judging by his success in school work, he probably always 
had a psychotic tendency. At seven or eight he saw a 
vision of God in the clouds; at puberty he masturbated 
considerably and used to stand before the mirror and 
"hypnotize" himself. In the fall of 1903 (then twenty-one) 
he was staying at a summer hotel where he met a girl who 
made love to him, when he began to have frequent emissions. 
Being caught together out in a storm, in an effort to protect 
her his hand found its way to her hair. He was greatly 
upset. On returning to the hotel he endeavored to avoid 
her, and, his father being slightly ill, he became convinced 
he was going to die. A month or so later he moved from 
Baltimore, which had been his home, and began employment 
with the government in Washington. He had more ernis- 

John T. MacCurdy, M. D. and Walter L, Treadway 171 

sions and immediately developed hysterical heart trouble, 
and from his retrospective account also had ideas of people 
influencing him. A year later (June 1905) a frank psychosis 
with considerable manic flavor developed. Secretary of 
State Hay had died, and peace negotiations between Russia 
and Japan were in progress. He got the idea that he was to 
succeed Hay (whose face he saw in the clouds) and that he 
would make peace between the nations. The accompanying 
excitement was so intense that when he came to see his 
father in Baltimore the latter had him committed to the 
Sheppard and Enoch Pratt Hospital.* He remained there 
for one year and eight months, during which time his mood 
showed great variability. At times he would be elated, 
again depressed or anxious, often silly with irrelevant 
laughter. Towards the end of his admission he had quite 
long intervals when he appeared normal. Eight months 
after his discharge he began to have monthly attacks lasting 
from one to two weeks. At the beginning of 1911 he came 
under the observation of one of us at the Johns Hopkins 
Hospital Dispensary. His case was followed minutely for 
some months when the following extraordinary clinical 
picture was seen to develop with regular periodicity. 
His interest would gradually withdraw from his work and an 
abstracted, "dim" look come into his eyes. He ceased to 
sleep either day or night. Ideas, in the intervals latent, 
would become more insistent, and he talked of them in a 
distracted way with occasional silly laughter and some 
scattering. At the same time he would show considerable 
physical unrest: rocking in his chair, nodding his head, 
sucking with his lips, and making occasional grimaces. A 
sharp word would, however, bring him to reality and normal 
behavior and speech, or the same result could be obtained 
by his own volition. In fact sufficient effort from either 
without or within could, it was several times demonstrated, 
postpone the further development of these symptoms for 
several days. Inevitably, however, control over his psycho- 
sis was lost. He became more excited; was assaultive till 
chastised by his father, after which that symptom no longer 

*For the privilege of using observations made on this patient at the Sheppard 
and Enoch Pratt Hospital, we wish most heartily to thank the Superintendent, Dr. 
Edward N. Brush. 

172 Constructive Delusions 

appeared; he would give none but irrelevant answers to 
questions; he masturbated openly. In the next phase he 
refused to an.swer questions altogether, sat in a chair by the 
window, rocking and tapping the floor or wall with his feet; 
reading a paper in a whisper or tearing it into scraps; spitting 
on the floor, his clothes or the window pane and then drawing 
pictures with his finger on the wet glass; intermittently 
chanting the same air over and over again with words, 
totally indistinguishable, except for the name "Jesus 
Christ " apparently interpolated irregularly in the course 
of the song. All this time he wore a silly smile occasionally 
breaking into a low chuckling laugh devoid of real emotion. 
In a short time his clothes and his immediate surroundings 
were in a state of horrid filth from his saliva and the torn 
papers. Towards the end of the attack he ceased making any 
sounds, simply rocked, spat and grinned. He would often 
pass twenty-four hours without emptying his bladder, 
though he never wet nor soiled himself. Few psychiatrists 
would have required more than a casual examination to 
give a diagnosis of hopeless deterioration, if they saw the 
patient only in the latter stage of one of these attacks. Yet 
in from seven to fourteen days after the first onset he would 
go to bed, sleep well, and in the morning appear perfectly 
normal and resume his efficient work. And this story had 
been repeated regularly once a month for four years! When 
normal his memory was hazy for the external events occur- 
ring during his attack, corresponding with his objective lack 
of contact with his environment, but the recollections of his 
ideas showed that he had been living in a perfect riot of 
fancies. The inference from this is inevitable that what we 
regard as a "Trendless praecox" or a taciturn dement may 
simply be one who does not choose to talk and not necessarily 
a vegetative wreck with neither delusions nor hallucinations. 
His ideas were found to be no less interesting than his 
formal picture. In fact, if the theory we are now advancing 
be correct and we had had it then, we believe it would have 
been possible to state at the time of his first attack that his 
psychosis would not show rapid deterioration; we might even 
have gone further and predicted that he would reach some 
such stage of relative sanity as he now enjoys. He has pre- 

John T. MacCurdy, M. D. and Walter L. Treadway 173 

sented three types of ideas. The first is crude expressions 
of bald sexual fancies; the second is transitional in that as 
many praecox patients do he gave these ideas a religious or 
philosophical setting, but in the hallucinations and delusions 
embodying them, still retained his personal connection with 
the fancies. For instance, he identified hinself with Christ, or 
he suffered from psychological influences exerted by others on 
him. These two types occurred only during attacks. The 
third type represented the real constructive tendency, during 
his " normal " intervals when he objectivized these ideas in 
the form of speculations as to the origin of life, the laws of 
society, religion, etc. The second type the transitional 
represented reciprocally two tendencies: in the psychosis it 
showed his constructive, healing capacity, while the develop- 
ment of such fancies, as allied himself directly with his 
speculations when " normal," was invariably the signal for 
another attack, the severity of which was in direct proportion 
to the crudity which his formulations reached. The com- 
plexity and number of his theories when going about his 
work was tremendous, which could be partially accounted 
for by his omnivorous reading. He read all sorts of histori- 
cal, occult, scientific and philosophical works, the material 
of which he absorbed only in so far as he could weave it 
into the fabric of his depraved speculations. This colored 
his transitional ideas as well, for in each attack he would 
have a new dramatization of his fancies determined by what 
he had just been reading. To present these ideas with 
anything like completeness would take hours. We must be 
content, therefore, with a few fragmentary examples. 

The more important of his crude ideas were: His trouble 
was caused by loss of semen (his attacks were always ushered 
in by emissions), to prevent which he sometimes put rubber 
bands around his penis; numerous homosexual fancies, he 
was a woman, he had a vagina, there was a maiden head in 
his forehead which was operated on to cause him to lose 
semen; different people made immoral proposals or had de- 
signs on his virginity. These people he all identified directly 
or indirectly with his father. Finally there was an idea that 
his mother's marriage with his father was not right, that he 
was not his father's son, and that his father was inimical 

174 Constructive Delusions 

to him. He talked of killing different persons whom at 
other times he identified plainly with his father. During 
an attack he assaulted his father; not infrequently he would 
take his father's picture from the wall and spit on it. The 
relations between his father and mother were adulterous, 
he claimed. 

If we now take the crude homosexual fancies and study 
their first elaboration we find that he had many ideas about 
eunuchs. They worked on him by psychological influence. 
The eunuchs, who could control sun and moon, influenced 
him through them. Once he had a vision of the sun ap- 
proaching him with which he was physically connected; the 
vision would disappear if he lost his virginity. These 
influences when referred to himself were agencies causing 
loss of semen, so that he would become a eunuch himself. 
At the time of his heart attack and later he thought there 
was a snake around his heart. This was a man who had 
turned himself into a snake in order to incorporate himself 
into the patient's body. His religious fancies apparently 
began with his delusion that he was Christ and in connection 
with this we find he had the theory that Christ was a virgin. 
One setting of his "psychological influence" experience, 
when he was in bed in one room and eunuchs were influencing 
from the next, he duplicated by saying he was Jesus Christ 
in one room and God' was in the next. He explained after 
one of his attacks that his attention was fixed on the window- 
pane on which he spat because there was a flower there. 
During an attack he was heard to say something about the 
struggle of men against being raped by ions and flowers. 
In these primitive elaborations we find an effort at distortion, 
a getting away from the absolutely crude and that the added 
elements which cause this distortion are in the form of ideas 
which imply a certain degree of philosophizing. The truly 
constructive delusions appear when he has ceased to drama- 
tize these theories with himself as the hero and treats them 
objectively. We then find that eunuchs are very important 
people in his philosophy (the medium of their power we shall 
see shortly). All women are eunuchs because they have no 
testicles* There is no difference between men and women; 
if a woman is stronger than her husband, he takes on her 

John T. MacCurdy, M. D. and Walter L. Treadway 175 

qualities. In India men suckle the children. He says 
that this is a well-known fact. A person could change him- 
self into a cancer and so get into another's body. This is 
perhaps an echo of something he had read of Ribbert's 
theory of neoplasms. Another pseudoscientific theory 
concerns a method of reproduction which could be developed, 
he thought. If a beautiful, strong man reaches his normal 
growth, all life above that is moulded by his ideals. He can 
develop within himself another personality which may be 
divorced from his body. Immaculate conception takes 
place this way. An argument he had in favor of this view 
was prenatal influence and the strong influence a woman's 
belief is supposed to have on pregnancy. Eunuchs control 
the sun and moon. The Jews have a secret process of 
eunuchry; they have a -way of inserting an instrument (a 
drawing of which he made, showing distinctly phallic 
features) by psychological means into the glands or bodies 
of men, thus cleaning them out. The eunuchs of the 
Romans used to cure their fellow countrymen of snakes 
growing around the heart by ingratiating themselves into 
persons, thus displacing the snakes and killing them. The 
government has many eunuchs in their employ. The 
influences of these men are malign or beneficial. They can 
injure enemies of the government or the government can 
incorporate them into bodies of other men to save the latter. 
All cardinals, most diplomats and many missionaries are 
eunuchs. The psychological influence exerted by such 
individuals may cause a loss of blood to their victims or 
they may use this power beneficially. The Romans, for 
instance, put blood of crucified people into the hands of 
eunuchs, who impregnated it by psychological influence 
into others. This would save their lives and eventually 
save the nation. 

The ideas we have mentioned showing rivalry with his 
father, apparently in relation to his mother, were largely 
elaborated in political and religious disguises in their transi- 
tion states, which in turn led to an objective interest in 
politics and religions. He spoke of killing the President 
which may be taken as a disguise for killing his father since 
he often claimed that his father was this or that ruler. He 

1 76 Constructive Delusions 

also spoke of killing one of his employers. He was prone 
to speak of his father as Edward VII. His envy of this 
situation of authority was shown when he once told the 
physician that his face was suspended in the face of the 
physician who was a King of England. But not the real 
King, he added, Edward VII was the real King. Again he 
said that he was Robert Emmet and the physician was Lord 
Norbury, the judge who convicted Robert Emmet, after 
whom the patient was named. In that r6le the physician 
told him it was all up, that there was no more Irish race. 
(It must be remembered that his father was a Fenian.) A 
fruitful source of speculations about international politics 
was found in the transitional ideas he expressed about the 
extraction of his parents. Beginning with his cogitations 
about the friction which actually existed between his parents, 
he ascribed this to their differing nationalities and religions. 
This led in turn to his fancying that on both sides his blood 
was drawn from many sources. He was particularly fond, 
for instance, of identifying his father with Hebrews, or 
Chinese; his mother with Romans, Italians or Spaniards. 
His original interest in the union (or disharmony) of his 
parents was easily transferred to this international setting 
and most of his attacks were heralded by dramatizations 
of political or international situations with which he was 
intimately connected. This was true of his first attack when 
he had an idea that he was to succeed Secretary Hay and 
make peace between Russia and Japan (his mother and 
father). On recovery these fancies were objectivized into a 
most intense interest in diplomacy. He knew the history 
and achievement of every diplomatist in Europe, though of 
course his data were always being distorted to fit with his 
insane theories. Intermarriage, for example, was the ruc 
of political trouble. He developed the ideas as follows: 
When an Irishman marries one of another race a confusion 
of races results; this was what took place in the tower of 
Babel; this is what causes disunion between states. He 
elaborated, too, on popular associations of certain customs 
with certain peoples. Gypsies, it is popularly supposed, 
frequently abduct children. With the patient this became 
an elaborate theory about an Egyptian custom or Egyptian 

John T. MacCurdy, M. D. and Walter L. Treadway 177 

influence. The Egyptians, he said abducted children and 
brought them up as their own acquiring a sinister influence 
over them because of the belief the children had that these 
adults who were their guardians were their real parents. 
In one attack he spoke of his father as "An Egyptian in- 
fluence. " This is plainly the same idea as he put into 
another form when he remarked that he would be all right 
if he could become English. When in his free intervals, 
he made it a practice sedulously to cultivate English people. 

This undercurrent of rivalry with the father came out 
in a religious disguise as well. His first attack when he was 
for many months interned he described as a religious mania. 
By means of identifying himself with Christ he dramatized 
both his subjugation and defiance. He went through many 
crucifixion experiences; said he was commanded by God. 
On the other hand he said Christ was a virgin and retained 
his virginity in order that he might discover the secrets of tne 
elders. For this reason he was crucified. The crudest 
expression he gave of defiance in a religious form was when 
he said "I was two persons in one God and Jesus Christ. 
God was damned." The more constructive tendency was 
shown by his fasting. This was due to an experience of some 
duration when he was translated back to the first century, 
was in a convent (sic!) and was tempted by the devil to eat. 
His fasting, he claimed, saved the other patients. His most 
constructive delusion was that all the churches would come 
together and then there would be only one church. During 
his first attack this was his "prophecy," during his saner 
intervals there were endless ramifications of this idea which 
are too tedious to recite. It is important to note as evidence 
of the purely psychotic character of his ideas that he has 
never been either religious in his spirit or in action a propa- 

Perhaps the most luxurious fancies this patient evolved 
were around the theme of semen. We have seen that his 
emissions were his constant worry, an increase in their 
frequency heralded an attack and he was convinced that if 
he could but retain this secretion he would be permanently 
cured; nay more, if he could retain enough he would grow to 
be like the giants of old. Whenever he had an emission he 

1 78 Constructive Delusions 

felt on waking a pain in his head and could never get totally 
rid of the idea that this was cancer. In his attacks the can- 
cer was the result of a homosexual assault and in his intervals 
he elaborated theories as to the origin of cancer; it came from 
friction, therefore coitus could produce it, it might be the 
result of adultery or cancer of the breast could come from a 
man rubbing his penis on the breasts of a woman; the cancer 
germs might come from semen if one believed in cancer and 
in germs. Life both as vital force and in the biological sense 
he identified with semen. Psychic activities too had the 
same origin which he explained thus: food taken into the 
mouth goes into the stomach and becomes chyle, chyle 
passes to the scrotum, thence to the spine and brain. Brain 
power is in direct proportion to the amount of semen re- 
tained. We see now why eunuchs had such power according 
to his philosophy. By childish reasoning, since they could 
not have emissions, their semen must be retained. He spoke 
of psychological influence in these terms: "It is the transfor- 
mation from the moisture state of the life principle to the 
moist electric state of warmth and its transference from the 
central ducts and glands to the head and being thrown out 
of the head in waves from the top of the head and eye s, 
It redounds to the other person's good. Have an eunuch 
near you it tends to make semen go to the head and gives 
the mental mouth something to think of. It could be used 
in a baleful way if one had will power over another person 
like hypnotism (Svengali and Trilby) In hypnotism the 
will goes on the same lines as psychological influence." 
The Jews, he said, lay around temples so much that their 
life had to go into sensuality or wisdom and it mostly went 
into wisdom. Continual seminal losses, he claimedj would 
lead to a change in personality. "Life," he said, permeated 
nature, it could not be lost. Wind was thus identified with 
it: "life" goes on a sheet (from an emission), the sheet is 
washed and the "life" passes to the water, then is taken up 
by the air and breathed. Thus he suffered both immediate 
and remote effects from emissions. The first result was to 
make him incapable of work; by breathing in the "life" 
later on he became a degenerate. Wind or the spiral move- 
ments of air was another origin of life. Wind is a spirit, in 

John T. MacCurdy^ M. D. and Walter L. Treadway 179 

defence of which he quoted the Greek pneuma. The words 
wind and word are the same, the former being derived from 
the latter through zvird. (Cf. "In the beginning was the 
word," or "The word was made flesh"). A cyclone is an 
effort hampered by civilization of what the world was 
originally. Life began as a spiral movement of air* Wind 
as the origin of life could be duplicated by mechanical 
methods or eunuchry. The sun he claimed was an accident. 
Men lived for centuries without it, till an accident, internally, 
led to vital forces being emanated and that was the origin 
of sun. The accident was the cutting of some man's testi- 

Now what was his further course? We have seen that 
in his attacks he expressed resentment against his father's 
domination. At the beginning of one of them, for instance, 
which he said was brought on by "Egyptian influence," he 
had a dream of an old Hebrew play of father and son. In 
this play they were trying to make him return to the old 
situation of bondage to his father. This bondage was an 
actuality. Owing to his monthly attacks he could hold no 
regular position and so worked for his father. The latter 
gave him no money except occasional small silver but bought 
for him clothes or anything else he might need. A psychotic 
man of nearly thirty, with a feminine character, he was 
hopelessly dependent on his father. -It is small wonder 
that he sought relief in recurring psychotic episodes. But a 
change came. On May 12, 1911, his father died suddenly 
of heart trouble. The patient was beginning to go into an 
attack at the time but pulled himself together, managed the 
funeral three days later, got his sister home, who had a 
hysterical attack at the grave, and then proceeded to indulge 
in his postponed attack. The sister was unable to care for 
him so he was sent again to the Sheppard and Enoch Pratt 
Hospital. In a few days he recovered. He was then talked 
to, told that this baleful relationship was over and that there 
was no longer any reason for his having attacks. With 
the exception of one attack at the beginning of 1912 he has 
had none, and seems to be able to maintain the mental 
equilibrium that previously characterized his intervals. 
For two and a half years he has been employed in the 

180 Constructive Delusions 

Customs House., Baltimore., a position which he secured by 
competitive examination, and has received an advance in 
salary from $900 to $1200 a year. He was recently written 
to and replied in exceptional literary form detailing more of 
his ideas. They seem to be essentially similar to those held 
four years ago. One may be quoted. A favorite "scien- 
tific" method with him has always been (from boyhood, he 
said) to divide up or distort words so as to get at their true 
meaning. This is now his explanation of the word "cancer. " 

"You may remember the origin of the word 'cancer' 
was once the topic of our meeting and strangely this matter 
has kept revolving itself in my mind ever since. My new 
solution is 'Kahns' and 'Ur. ' You know there are a good 
many people named 'Kahn' and as probably you have 
noted in the. Bible allusion to the ancient race of the name 
*Ur. ' Now, you can place what construction you will 
on the combination. There are several; here is one: I have 
heard it stated that the word 'Ur' originally meant 'wife' 
hence,' from our point of view 'the solution is easy, Kahn's 
Ur or Kahn's wife, but what has puzzled me is what she is 
doing in so many people. 

"Here's another: Signifying the overcoming of the Jew 
by Ur or Kahn by Ur (Kahn by 'er) much on the saine 
principle as the words 'Spanish-American 3 and 'Graeco- 
Roman' are nased with reference to the late 'unpleasant- 
ness' and the ancient one. 

"Here's another: Simply meaning that Kahn is not a 
Jew at all but simply an Ur. 

"So you see I have not altogether forgotten some of 
the topics of our meeting. " 

If our claims be allowed we should be able to make some 
deductions of value to psychiatric theory. The first is an 
explanation of scattering of thought. We find that, in all 
our cases showing constructive delusions, the utterance of 
these highly elaborated fancies is not accompanied by scatter- 
ing. On the other hand it is an every day experience that a 
dementia praecox patient may show no scattering when 
conversing on indifferent subjects but that his train of 
thought loses logical sequence when he launches into his 
ideas. These findings may be reconciled by studying the 

John T. MacCurdy, M. D. and Walter L. Treadway 181 

reaction with types of ideas such as the last patient showed. 
In his intervals he was (and is) continually busy with de- 
lusional thoughts but of a constructive character, but was 
never scattered as long as these were alone present. As 
soon, however, as an attack commenced and cruder ideas 
appeared he became scattered. Where were these crude ideas 
in the intervals ? They were represented in his constructive 
delusions it is true, but in their native form they did not 
appear. The cruder fancies must therefore have been in the 
unconscious during his intervals. Now actual verbatim 
records show with him that these crude ideas did not come 
to expression in logical sequence but that each appeared in 
response to an idea previously in his consciousness which 
was a distorted formulation of the crude fancy next to 
appear. His utterances during these attacks would have a 
logical sequence if they were translated into terms of the 
underlying crude ideas. The scattering, therefore, was due 
to the fact that his utterances were a mixture of crude and 
elaborated fancies. Had they been entirely one or the 
other there would have been no scattering. During his 
intervals he dealt with objective fancies and was logical. 
As these fancies, however, could be easily demonstrated to 
be derived from the unconscious crude ones, which appeared 
during his attacks, we are safe in assuming that one factor 
at least in the production of an attack was the lifting of some 
inhibition which kept the cruder ideas from entering con- 
sciousness except in a form in which they could be objectively 
viewed and so logically arranged. Scattering of thought 
therefore arises from the intermittent action of this censor 
or from an incomplete abolition of the inhibition allowing 
varying formulations of the crude ideas to gain expression 
which have no logic surface connection. If entirely done 
away with, of course, the latent ideas appearing in perfect 
crudity would have a logical connection. The content of 
consciousness is what is within the sphere of introspection. 
We can therefore say that the praecox who is scattered really 
does not know his own ideas. This is, of course, an every 
day experience for those who examine such patients. A 
suitable case left to himself will give expression to a limited 
number of delusions which he does not correlate. A few 

1 82 Constructive Delusions 

suggestive questions, however, will educe a mass of delusions, 
which when pieced together demonstrate the logical uncon- 
scious ideas that give rise to them. If such a patient be 
asked "What are your ideas?" he can give no reply. Ask 
him, however, if any one is mistreating him and you will 
start a train of thought in which one fancied insult leads to 
another or to delusions which do not represent mistreatment 
at all. On the other hand approach a patient with con- 
structive delusions with the same question as to his ideas 
and he will produce a theory of the universe, often with a 
chronological account of how these ideas developed. He 
is insane in that his fancies do not reach an outlet in action, 
being an end in themselves; but he is sane in so far as he 
keeps his ideas within the range of introspection and has not 
allowed them to become autonomous. The inferences from 
this to the laws of normal association are obvious. 

The second point is really a historical one- Psychia- 
trists are often asked, "Was Joan of Arc crazy?" "Was 
Saint Louis a dementia praecox?" In an endeavor to an- 
swer such questions wise books have been written detailing 
the "psychoses" of historic or religious leaders. There is prob- 
ably not a single delusion expressed by any one of the patients 
whose cases have just been recited that is not duplicated 
or paralleled by the belief of savants of a few centuries ago 
or the uneducated of to-day. The last patient said "All 
nature is artificial, man made it all. All the world would 
disappear, if man lost the power of reproducing. The re- 
production of nature by man is founded on faith constant 
reiteration and association with a thing will produce that 
thing." Is this not analogous to the working hypothesis 
of the alchemists? The more sincere among them sought 
salvation for their souls. To gain this they worked with 
metals to which they ascribed abstract or moral qualities. 
Their metallurgy was primarily symbolic, yet they seriously 
hoped for results by working with symbols. And to what 
extent of absurdity and crudity did they go? Many of 
their metallurgic terms were sexual processes. Their 
"prima materia" was called by the name of many of the 
secretions or excretions of the body. A whole school 
the Seminalists adhered to the view that the great original 

John T. MacCurdy, M. D. and Walter L. Treadway 183 

substance was semen. Other thought it was hermaphro- 
ditic. Paracelsus spoke of the birth of monsters as a result 
of sodomy. A natural history* written three centuries ago 
tells of semen being carried by wind. Notoriously there 
was no limit either to the absurdity or crudity of these con- 
ceptions. Were these men the wisest of their time 
insane? Here again we may quote the last patient "In- 
sanity," he saysj "is the elemental human mind left to itself, 
unimproved by other minds." The last is the important 
phrase. What minds were there to improve those of the 
alchemists ? What critic was there to tell Joan of Arc that 
visions and voices were pathological? That was the regula- 
tion form of inspiration in her day. Comparative mythology 
like a comparison of mysticism, alchemy, rosicrucianism and 
masonry shows that the human mind left to itself will formu- 
late similar ideas. These ideas, however, are modified by 
the advance of learning as time goes on. The individual 
whose critical faculty allows him to maintain an idea in- 
compatible with the knowledge of his age and his fellows is 

Our last point is a corollary to the claim we have just 
made. It has been the sport of iconoclasts for many years 
to discount all religious beliefs as psychopathic. This is not 
the forum where the problem of science versus religion may 
be discussed but these cases have certain features which 
should warn us to be wary of such generalizations. We 
have seen that religious formulations have been used to 
embody crude fancies. That does not preclude the possibil- 
ity of the formulations having an actual basis. A flag may 
gain its importance to a given individual because it symbol- 
izes for him his native land but that does not prove that the 
flag has not an existence of itself. This, however, is a matter 
of logic and not of psychiatry. Let us now grant that all 
religious formulations have an unconscious origin. But 
there still remains a wide gulf between patients such as we 
have been describing and the devout church-goers. The 
former show in their productions how their religious ideas 
arise, their egocentric quality is patent,, they manifestly are 
but thin cloaks for selfish wishes. The latter, however, 

*The Historic of Fou re-Footed Beastes, by Edward Topsell, London, 1607. 

184 Constructive Delusions 

never in consciousness connect their religious formulations 
with their subjective creations. To the true believer his 
God is as objective a reality as is the electron of the phys- 
cist. Finally, real religious faith has a pragmatic value. 
Granting it be only a theory it nevertheless produces results 
in conduct. This is in sharpest contrast to religious de- 
lusions. They never lead to sustained effort, they bring 
with them no social potentiality. They exist for the com- 
fort of the patient alone. 

To sum up: W"e have endeavored to establish the claim 
that delusions in dementia praecox which takes the form of 
objective speculations rather than subjective experiences 
are an evidence of a milder psychotic reaction and hence 
warrant a prognosis of chronicity rather than deterioration. 
From the cases presented we argue that scattering of thought 
arises from a failure to formulate underlying fancies in an 
objective way; that the insanity of ideas depends not on 
themselves but on the critical judgment of the age -which 
produces them, and lastly that there are essential psycho- 
logical differences between creeds and religious delusions. 



Assistant Resident Alienist, Psychopathic Department of Bellevue Hospital 

of New York 

(Read before the Fidonian Club, New York, October 16, 1:914..} 

ONSCIOUSNESS had reached this point in Greece, 
when in Athens, the great forum of Socrates, in 
whom subjectivity of thought was brought to con- 
sciousness in a more definite and more thorough 
manner, now appeared. But Socrates did not grow- like a 
mushroom out of the earth, for he extends in continuity with 
his time, and this is not only a most important figure in the 
history of philosophy but perhaps also a world famed 
personage. " Hegel. 

"When Columbus set sail across the untraversed western 
sea, his purpose was to reach by a new path, a portion of the 
old, known world, and he lived and died in the belief that 
he had done so. He never knew that he had discovered a 
new world. So it was with Socrates. When he launched his 
spiritual bark upon the pathless ocean of reflected thought, 
his object was to discover a new way to the old world of little 
commonwealths and narrow interests, and he probably died 
thinking he had succeeded. He did not dream that he had 
discovered aoiew world the world of humanity and universal 
interests. But so it was; and tho mankind are still very 
far from having made themselves at home in that world, 
and from having availed themselves of its boundless spiritual 
treasures, it can never be withdrawn from their sight, or 
the conquest of it cease to be the object of their hghest 
aspirations. 55 Thomas Davidson. 


The Hellenic influence upon the intellectual develop- 
ment of the world is infinite. The intellectual force em- 
anating from the sources of Greek art, literature and 


1 86 Socrates 'in the Light of Modern Psychopathology 

philosophy permeated thru the ages and have helped to 
shape the destiny of our civilization. " Except the blind 
forces of Nature," says Sir Henry Sumner Maine, " nothing 
moves in this world which is not Greek in its origin. " 
I. Without a shadow of doubt, Greek Philosophy forms 
the firm background of progressive and reflective thought 
in all its phases and ramifications. 

In the history and evolution of Hellenic thought, we find 
two tendencies of inquiry, one dealing with the objective 
manifestations of the universe, and the other directed towards 
the study of the mind. To the former class belong Thales, 
Anaximander, Anaximenes, Pythagoras, and others that 
attempted to discover some principle for the explanation of 
the natural phenomena. To accomplish this end, mathe- 
matics, physics, metaphysics, etc., were resorted to. The 
other great epoch, which may be termed the Renaissance of 
Greek Philosophy, was conceived by the Supreme Greek 
thinker, Socrates, who forms the subject thesis of this paper. 

Socrates was the father of psychology and the grand- 
father of modern psychopathology. He was the first one 
that attempted to study man from the point of view of sub- 
jectivity. In the words of Snyder, cc ln Socrates, the human 
mind burst forth into knowing itself as thinking." 2. And 
Zeller very thoughtfully remarks: "The interests of philoso- 
phy being thus turned away from the outer world and 
directed towards man and his moral nature, and man only 
regarding things as true and binding of the truth of which 
he was convinced himself by Intellectual research, there 
appears necessarily in Socrates a deeper importance attached 
to the personality of the thinker." 3. In Phaedrus, 
Socrates speaks: "I am a lover of knowledge, and in the 
cities I can learn from men; but the fields can teach me 
nothing." 4. Although Aristophanes pictures Socrates 
in the clouds as preaching natural philosophy, yet there is no 
authentic record of this. 

The source of information regarding the biography of 
Socrates and his philosophy comes from two authors, Xeno- 
phon and Plato. The former portrays him as a moral 
philosopher and in his book, Memorabilia, he seems to 
eulogize his master. The latter however presents him as 

Morris J. Karpas, M. D. 187 

a thinker, and it is maintained by many critics that Plato 
put into the mouth of Socrates his own ideas. It is lament- 
able that this great philosopher committed nothing of his 
monumental work in writing. 


It is difficult to construct a biographic sketch of Socrates 
in a chronological and systematic order. He was born in the 
year 469 B. C. His father was Sophroniscus, a sculptor, 
and his mother Phaenarete, a midwife. He followed his 
father's vocation and it is believed that he showed poor 
skill in the profession. We know nothing of his early in- 
tellectual and moral development. Since he was bred in 
Athens, he most probably received the usual education 
peculiar to that age. He was a soldier and took part in 
military campaigns and wars. It is maintained that in mili- 
tary life he displayed considerable bravery, endurance and 
fortitude. The exact date of his appearance, in public arena 
is difficult to ascertain, however, "in the traditions of his 
followers he is almost uniformly represented as an old, or as 
a gray-headed man. " 5. 

There are distinctive traits in the personality of Socrates 
that are worthy of emphasis because of their dynamic 

He was described as eccentric in his general mode of 
conduct. He "strutted proudly barefoot along the streets 
of Athens; he was careless and shabby in his dress; in his 
manner he was affected and haughty and was subject to 
ecstatic trances and visions. During these trances he would 
maintain a standing posture for hours, buried in his thoughts, 
and was quite oblivious to the external world. There was a 
celebrated occasion in the camp at Poteidaice, when Socrates 
was not quite forty; on that occasion he stood motionless 
from early morning on one day till sunrise on the next, right 
through a night when there was a very hard frost. When 
the sun rose he said his prayer and went about his business. " 
6. It is also claimed that he would give vent to bursts of 
anger and fiery passion. 

Ever since early boyhood Socrates is supposed to have 
heard an inner voice, which he called a divine sign. It came 

1 88 Socrates in the Light of Modern Psychopathology 

to him quite often both on important and on insignificant 
occasions. According to Xenophon, this voice gave him 
both negative and positive warnings; however, Plato holds 
that this voice only exercised its influence in opposing 
the execution of certain things. "And not only was he 
generally convinced" says Zeller, "that he stood and acted 
in the service of God, but he also held that supernatural 
suggestions were communicated to him, not only through 
the medium of public oracles, but also in dreams, and more 
particularly by a peculiar kind of higher inspiration which 
goes by the name of the Socratic daimoviov. " 7. 

Even by his contemporaries he was regarded as singular 
and eccentric and his general behavior was ever foreign to 
his compatriots. Indeed Lelut (8) boldly asserts that 
Socrates was "un fou." Nevertheless "attempts were not 
wanting to excuse him," so writes Zeller, "either on the 
ground of the universal superstition of his age and nation, 
or else of his having a physical tendency to fanaticism. " 9. 

Another interesting feature in the life of Socrates is 
that he married late and that his matrimonial life was far 
from being happy, and in the words of Schwegler, "He no- 
where shows much regard for his wife and children; the 
notorious, though altogether too much exaggerated ill- 
nature of Xantippe, leads us to suspect, however, that his 
domestic relations were not the most happy. " 10. It is 
also important to note that there was a turning point in the 
history of his life when he took up the preaching of philoso- 
phy. It must be borne in mind that he took no money for 
his teaching and at the same time he left his wife and chil- 
dren destitute. In regard to this Draper remarks, "There is 
surely something wrong in a man's life when the mother of 
his children is protesting against his conduct, and her com- 
plaints are countenanced by the community." II. 

It is also significant that Socrates displayed a certain 
degree of masochism; our historians tell us that Socrates 
would deny himself bodily comforts and insist on enduring 
hardship. Xenophon in Memorabilia says: "But they 
knew that Socrates lived with the utmost contentment on 
very small means, that he was most abstinent from every 
kind of pleasure, and that he swayed those with whom he 

Morris J. Karpas, M. D. 189 

conversed just as he pleased by his arguments." 12, 
Again, "Is it not the duty of every man to consider that 
temperance is the foundation of every virtue, and to estab- 
lish the observance of it in hi& mind before all things? For 
who, without it, can either learn anything good or sufficiently 
practice it? Who, that is a slave to pleasure is not in an ill 
condition both as to his body and his mind? It appears to 
me, by Juno, that a free man ought to pray that he may 
never meet -with a slave of such a character, and that he who 
is a slave to pleasure should pray to the gods that he may 
find well-disposed masters; for by such means only can a 
man of that sort be saved. " 13. And, "He appeared also 
to me, by such discourses as the following, to exhort his 
hearers to practice temperance in their desires for food, 
drink, sensual gratification, and sleep, and endurance of 
cold, heat and labor." 14. 

Although he condemned poederastia, yet he was al- 
ways fond of the male sex, particularly of the young. This, 
however, may be explained on the ground that his object was 
to appeal to the young. Nevertheless, dynamic psychology 
demands a deeper meaning for such a motive. In this con- 
nection it would be interesting to quote Xenophon: "As to 
love, his counsel was to abstain rigidly from familiarity 
with beautiful persons; for he observed that it was not easy 
to be in communication with such persons, and observe 
continence. Hearing, on one occasion, that Critobulus, the 
son of Criton, had kissed the son of Alcibiades, a handsome 
youth, he asked Xenophon, in the presence of Critobulus, 
saying, "Tell me, Xenophon, did you not think that Crito- 
bulus was one of the modest rather than the forward, one of 
the thoughtful rather than of the thoughtless and inconsid- 
erate? "Certainly," replied Xenophon. "You must now, 
then, think him extremely headstrong and daring; one who 
would even spring upon drawn swords, and leap into the 
fire." "And what," said Xenophon, "have you seen him 
doing, that you form this opinion of him?" "Why, has he 
not dared," rejoined Socrates, "to kiss the son of Alcibiades, 
a youth extremely handsome, and in the flower of his age?" 
"If such a deed," returned Xenophon, "is one of daring and 
peril, I think that even I could undergo such peril." "Un- 

1 90 Socrates in the Light of Modern Psychopathology 

happy man! 9 ' exclaimed Socrates, "and what do you think 
that you incur by kissing a handsome person? Do you not 
expect to become at once a slave instead of a freeman? To 
spend much money upon hurtful pleasures? To have too 
much occupation to attend to anything honourable and pro- 
fitable? And to be compelled to pursue what not even a mad 
man would pursue?" "By Hercules," said Xenophon, 
"what extraordinary power you represent to be in a kiss!" 
"Do you wonder at this?" rejoined Socrates; "are you not 
aware that the Tarantula, an insect not as large as half an 
obolus, by just touching a part of the body with its mouth, 
wears men down with pain, and deprives them of their 
senses?" "Yes, indeed," said Xenophon, "but the Taran- 
tula infuses something when it bites." "And do you not 
think ; foolish man," rejoined Socrates, "that beautiful 
persons infuses something when they kiss, something which 
you do not see? Do you not know that the animal, which 
they call a handsome and beautiful object, is so much more 
formidable than the Tarantula, as those insects instil some- 
thing when they touch, but this creature, without even 
touching, but if a person only looks at it, though from a very 
great distance, instils something of such potency, as to drive 
people mad? Perhaps indeed Cupids are called archers for 
no other reason but because the beautiful wound from a 
distance. But I advise you, Xenophon, whenever you see 
any handsome person, to flee without looking behind you; 
and I recommend to you, Critobulus, to absent yourself 
from hence for a year, for perhaps you may in that time, 
though hardly indeed, be cured of your wound. " Thus he 
thought that those should act with regard to objects of love 
who were not secure against the attractions of such objects; 
objects of such a nature, that if the body did not at all desire 
them, the mind would not contemplate them, and which, 
if the body did desire them, should cause us no trouble. 
.For himself, he was evidently so disciplined with respect to 
such matters, that he could more easily keep aloof from the 
fairest and most blooming objects than others from the most 
deformed and unattractive. Such was the state of his feel- 
ings in regard to eating, drinking, and amorous gratification; 
and he believed that he himself, with self-restraint, would 

Morris J. Karpas, M. ZX 191 

have no less pleasure from them, than those who took great 
trouble to pursue such gratifications, and that he would 
suffer far less anxiety. " 15. 

There is another interesting anecdote which is worthy of 
mention: "The Syrian soothsayer and physiognomist, 
Zopyrus, saw- in the countenance of Socrates the imprint of 
strong sensuality. Loud protests were raised by the assem- 
bled disciples, but Socrates silenced them with the remark: 
'Zopyrus is not mistaken; however, I have conquered those 
desires/" 16. 

It is also evident that Socrates' mother must have 
played some role in his mental life. It should be recalled 
that at first he followed his father's profession, which seem- 
ingly made no impression upon him, and later he took up 
his new vocation, preaching philosophy, which he loved to 
identify with that of his mother, and indeed by reason of 
this the positive side of the Socratic method is known as " the 
art of intellectual midwifery." "Socrates compared him- 
self," writes Schwegler, "with his mother, Phaenarete, a 
midwife, because his office was rather to help others bring 
forth thoughts than to produce them himself, and because 
he took upon himself to distinguish the birth of an empty 
thought from one rich in content." 17. 

Further evidence of the deep reverence for his mother 
is seen in Memorabilia where his eldest son, Lamprocles, 
finds fault with his mother, and Socrates, though apparently 
entertaining very little love for his wife, yet takes up a de- 
fensive attitude towards her and offers the following argu- 
ment to his son: "Yet you are displeased at your mother, 
although you well know that whatever she says, she not only 
says nothing with intent to do you harm, but that she wishes 
you more good than any other human being. Or do you 
suppose that your mother meditates evil towards you?" 
"No indeed," said Lamprocles, "that I do not imagine." 
"Do you then say that this mother," rejoined Socrates, 
"who is so benevolent to you; who, when you are ill, takes 
care of you to the utmost of her power that you may recover 
your health, and that you may want nothing that is neces- 
sary for you, and who, besides, entreats the gods for many 
blessings on your head, and pays vows for you, is a harsh 

192 Socrates in the Light of Modern Psyckopatkology 

mother? For my part, I think that if you cannot endure 
such a mother, you cannot endure anything that is good." 

And in Crito, Socrates relates a dream shortly before 
his death, in which his mother appeared, and to quote Plato: 
" Crito says, 'And what can this dream have been ? ? Socrates 
replied, "I thought a woman came to me, tall and fair, and 
clothed in white, and she called me and said 'Socrates, 
Socrates, in three days' time you will come to the fertile land, 
Phthia.' " 19. ' 

To sum up briefly, the personality of Socrates showed 
some psychopathic traits. It must also be borne in mind 
that in that critical period, middle age, a sudden change 
occurred in his mental life when he suddenly commenced to 
exhibit profound interest in preaching philosophy. More- 
over, it must be emphasized that he apparently reacted to 
hallucinations of an auto-psychic nature. The self-asceti- 
cism, and most probably the mother-complex cannot be passed 
without mention. Although he presented these negative 
qualities, nevertheless he left a great school of philosophy, 
which beyond doubt is still felt in the intellectual and moral 
world. Despite this, Athens committed an unpardonable 
crime in putting Socrates to death. He, like other martyrs, 
shared the same fate of the mob. LowelFs verse very 
justly applies to Socrates: 

"Truth forever on the scaffold; 
Wrong forever on the throne. " 20. 

With this characterization of Socrates, we are now in a 
position to discuss that part of his philosophy which has a 
definite bearing on modern psychopathology. Three im- 
portant phases of his philosophy 1 come under consideration: 
r. The dialectic method; 

2. The conception of virtue; 

3. Know thyself. 


In Socratic philosophy the Dialectic Method occupies a 
lofty position. By this method he was enabled to penetrate 
deeply into human nature and unfold all phases of man's 

Morris J. Karpas, M. D. 193 

experience, Aristotle characterizes this method as the in- 
duction of reasoning and the definition of general concepts. 
Gomperz, speaking of the great zeal that Socrates exhibited 
in this method, says, "to him (Socrates), a life without 
cross-examination, that is, without dialogues in which the 
intellect is exercised in the pursuit of truth, is for him not 
worth living." 21. And Schwegler pertinently asserts 
"that through this art of midwifery the philosopher, by his 
assiduous questioning, by his interrogatory dissection of the 
notions of him with whom he might be conversing, knew 
how to elicit from him a thought of which he had been pre- 
viously unconscious, and how to help him to the birth of a 
new thought." 22. 

Briefly stated, the Dialectic Method is divided into two 
parts, the negative and the positive. The former is known 
as the Socratic Irony. By this method the philosopher 
takes the position that he is ignorant and endeavors to show- 
by a process of reasoning that the subject under discussion 
is in a state of confusion and proves to the interlocutor that 
his supposed knowledge is a source of . inconsistencies and 

On the other hand, the positive side of the method, 
"the so-called obstetrics or art of intellectual midwifery" 23 
leads to definite deductions. To illustrate the two phases 
of this method, the following example may be taken. A 
youth of immature self-confidence believed himself to be 
competent to manage the affairs of state. Socrates would 
then analyze the general concept of the statecraft, and 
reduce it to its component parts, and by continuous ques- 
tions and answers would show to this supposed statesman 
that he was lacking true knowledge. Again, a young man 
of mature judgment, but of an exceedingly modest tempera- 
ment, being reluctant to take part in the debates of the 
Assembly, Socrates would prove to him that he was fully 
competent to undertake such a task. 

In a word, the Socratic method presents two striking 
tendencies; one destructive, the other constructive; the 
former annihilates erroneous conceptions, and the latter 
aids the building up of a healthy mental world, in which men 
may find pleasure. In a broad sense, the dialectic method 

194 Socrates in the Light of Modern Psychopathology 

bears some resemblance to the psychoanalytic, inasmuch as 
both seek to analyze human nature in the light of individual 
experience; to find the ultimate and predominating truth 
underlying such an experience; both attempt to make the 
individual realize the extent of his limitations and capacity 
of adjustment by subordinating the antagonistic forces and 
at the same time aiding the construction of a world of healthy 


Before attempting to discuss the Socratic Conception of 
Virtue , it is important to call attention to two facts; 

1st., The principles of mental life, and 

2nd., The Greek conception of the state. 

Roughly speaking, mental life is composed of two parts; 
the unconscious, or instinctive, and the conscious. In the 
early development of the child, mental adjustment is purely 
instinctive or unconscious. As the child grows older, the 
unconscious life becomes gradually subordinated to the con- 
ventional and cultural requirements. The influence of edu- 
cation, religion, morality and environment begin to exert 
their influence upon the child and the conscious life com- 
mences gradually to assert itself. The characteristic differ- 
ence between a very young child and the conventional adult, 
lies in the "fact that the former's behavior is not controlled 
by conventionalities or tenets, -whereas the latter conforms 
with all the rules and customs of society. 

The Greeks entertained a very high idea of the function 
of the state. It was invested with a high moral value and 
pedagogic aim. In fact, Plato's republic demonstrates this 
very well, ATI important point must be emphasized, that 
the state exercised a potent influence upon the development 
of the conscious life of the individual. 

Now we can understand the Socratic Conception of 
Virtue in relation to the conscious and unconscious life. 
What Socrates maintained was that true virtue must de- 
pend upon knowledge; hence knowledge is the strongest 
power of man and cannot be controlled by passion. In 
short, knowledge is the root of moral action, and, on the 
other hand, Jack of knowledge is the cause of vice. In other 

Morris J. Karpas, M. D. 195 

words, no man can voluntarily pursue evil, and to prefer 
evil to good would be foreign to human nature. Hence, in 
the Socratic sense, in the unconscious lies the root of anti- 
social deeds, and, as Forbes puts it: "Socratic view of sin, in 
fact, keeps it in a region subliminal to knowledge. The 
sinner is never more really than an instinctive man, an 
undeveloped, irrational creature; strictly speaking, not a 
man at all. " 24. 

Since Socrates identified virtue -with knowledge, and 
made knowledge a conscious factor in mental life, it is evi- 
dent that education, environment, religion and conventional- 
ity are the determining factors in the cultivation of the con- 
scious. "What may be called institutional virtue, " writes 
Snyder, "is for Socrates the fundamental and all-inclusive 
Virtue, the ground of the other Virtues. He believes in the 
State, obeys the Laws, performs his duties as a citizen. This 
does not hinder him from seeing defects in the existent state 
and its Laws, and trying to remedy them. Indeed, his whole 
scheme of training in Virtue is to produce a man who can 
make good Laws, and so establish a good State. 'What is 
Piety?' he asks, not a blind worship of the gods, but wor- 
ship of them according to their laws and customs, which one 
must know. That is, one must know the law of the thing, 
the time of mere instinctive action and obedience is past. " 
25. And Zeller expresses himself in a similar manner: "Of 
the importance of the state and the obligations towards the 
same, a very high notion indeed is entertained by Socrates: 
He who would live amongst men, he said, must live in a 
state, be a ruler or be ruled. He requires, therefore, the most 
unconditional obedience to the laws, to such an extent that 
the conception of justice is reduced to that of obedience to 
law, but he desires every competent man to take part in the 
administration of the state, the well-being of all individuals 
depending on the well-being of the community. These 
principles were really carried into practice by him through- 
out his life. With devoted self-sacrifice his duties as a 
citizen were fulfilled, even death being endured in order 
that he might not violate the laws. Even his philanthropic 
labors were regarded as the fulfillment of a duty to the state; 
and in Xenophon's Memorabilia we see him using every 

196 Socrates in the Light of Modern Psychopathology 

opportunity of impressing able people for political services, 
of deterring the incompetent, of awakening officials to their 
sense of their duties, and of giving them help in the adminis- 
tration of their offices. He himself expresses the political 
character of these efforts most tellingly, by including all 
virtues under the conception of the ruling art." 26. 

To recapitulate briefly; the Socratic conception of the 
unconscious conforms in many respects with our present 
knowledge of it, especially insofar as our psychoanalytic ex- 
perience shows us conclusively what a potent factor is exer- 
cised by the unconscious in the determination of psychotic 
and neurotic phenomena. Indeed in the Socratic sense such 
manifestations are anti-social and cannot be identified with 
virtue, hence they are not conscious. One may say that 
Socrates unconsciously conceived the modern idea of the 
dynamics of the unconscious. 


The great Socratic Maxim, "Know Thyself," is one of 
the strongest moral precepts in Ethics. Although the soph- 
ists had already called attention to the fact that "man is the 
measure of all things, " however they applied to the individual 
and not to human nature in general. "But Socrates pro- 
claimed that this self-knowing Ego knows itself likewise as 
object, as the principle of the world, in which man is to find 
himself in order to know it. " 27. 

To know one's self implies calmness of self-possession, 
fearlessness and independence. Furthermore it leads one 
to a striking -realization of one's limitations and shortcom- 
ings, which form the foundations of success, and, as Forbes 
expresses it, "in this self-knowledge is the secret of 
blessing and success in the handling of human affairs, and 
right relationship with others. " 28. 

Socrates, 'discussing his maxim with Euthydemus, gives 
a clear and comprehensive idea of this interesting subject: 
"Socrates then said: 'Tell me, Euthydemus, have you ever 
gone to Delphi?' "Yes, twice/ replied he. 'And did you 
observe what is written somewhere on the temple wall. 
Know Thyself?' 'I did.' 'And did you take no thought of 
that inscription, or did you attend to it, and try to examine 

Morris J. Karpas, M. D. 197 

yourself to ascertain what sort of a character you are?' 'I 
did not indeed try, for I thought that I knew very well 
already, since I should hardly know anything else if I did not 
know myself.* 'But whether does he seem to you to know 
himself, wHo knows his own name merely, or he who (like 
people buying horses, who do not think that they know the 
horse that they want to know, until they have ascertained 
whether he is tractable or unruly, whether he is strong or 
weak, swift or slow, and how he is as to other points which 
are serviceable or disadvantageous in the use of a horse so 
he), having ascertained with regard to himself how he is 
adapted for the service of mankind, knows his own abilities ?' 
c lt appears to me, I must confess, that he who does not 
know his own abilities, does not know himself.' 

"'But is it not evident/ said Socrates, e that men enjoy 
a great number of blessings in consequence of knowing them- 
selves, and incur a great number of evils, through being 
deceived in themselves? For they who know themselves 
know what is suitable for them, and distinguish between 
what they can do and what they cannot; and, by doing what 
they know n how to do, procure for themselves what they 
need, and are prosperous, and by abstaining from -what they 
do not know, live blamelessly, and avoid being unfortunate. 
By this knowledge of themselves too, they can form an 
opinion of other men, and, by their experiences of the rest of 
mankind, obtain for themselves what is good, and guard 
against what is evil.' 

" But they who do not know themselves, but are deceived 
in their own powers, are in similar case with regard to other 
men, and other human aflairs, and neither understand what 
they require, nor what they are doing, nor the character of 
those with whom they connect themselves, but, being in 
error as to all these particulars, they fail to obtain what is 
good, and fall into evil. 

"They, on the other hand who understand what they 
take in hand, succeed in what they attempt, and become 
esteemed and honoured; those who resemble them in charac- 
ter willingly form connections with them; those who are 
unsuccessful in their affairs desire to be assisted with their 
advice, and to prefer them to themselves; they place in them 

198 Socrates in the Light of Modern Psychopathology 

their hopes of good and love them, on all these accounts, 
beyond all other men. 

" But those, again, who do not know what they are doing, 
who make an unhappy choice in life, and are unsuccessful in 
what they attempt, not only incur losses and sufferings in 
their own affairs, but become in consequence, disreputable 
and ridiculous, and drag out their lives in contempt and dis- 
honour. Among states, too, you see that such as, from ignor- 
ance of their own strength, go to war with others that are 
more powerful, are, some of them, utterly overthrown, and 
others reduced from freeddm to slavery." 29. 

What Socrates attempts to show, is that self-knowledge 
is conducive to human happiness. Indeed, sanity in a 
broad sense, depends upon insight into one's true knowledge 
of his limitation and capacity for adaptation. However, 
Socrates holds that madness is not ignorance, but admits 
that for "A man to be ignorant of himself, and to fancy and 
believe that he knew what he did not know, he considered 
to be something closely bordering on madness. The multi- 
tude, he observed, do not say that those are mad who make 
mistakes in matters of which most people are ignorant, but 
call those only mad who make mistakes in affairs "with which 
most people are acquainted; for if a man should think him- 
self so tall a.s to stoop when going through the gates in the 
city wall, or so strong as to try to lift up houses, or attempt 
anything else that is plainly impossible to all men, they say 
that he is mad; but those who make mistakes in small 
matters are not thought by the multitude to be mad; but 
just as they call * strong desire 3 'love, 7 so they call 'great 
disorder of intellect' * madness. ? " 30. 

This Socratic principle plays an important role in 
psychopathology; in psychoanalysis, what the physician 
does is to acquaint the patient with the unconscious mental 
processes, thus putting him in full knowledge of his condi- 
tion to enable him to adjust himself to his environment. 
In mental diseases the prognosis of a psychosis is not looked 
upon so gravely when the patient has some realization of his 
situation, and likewise the recovery from a mental infirmity 
is more hopeful when the patient exhibits considerable in- 
sight into his condition. It is a well known fact that in a 

Morris J. Karpas, M. D. 199 

malignant psychosis, self-knowledge does not exist, and this 
in part is responsible for its malignancy. On the other 
hand the benignant nature of a psychoneurosis may be in 
part attributed to the patient's appreciation of his affliction. 
However, the Socratic maxim has another moral and 
social value, that is, by only knowing one's self can one 
understand his fellowmen. Indeed, Plato makes Socrates 
say, in Phaedrus, that it is ridiculous to trouble one's self 
about other things when one is still ignorant of one's self. 
It is well known to every psychoanalyst that a patient can- 
not be analyzed by the physician unless the latter has con- 
quered his own resistances and adjusted his complexes. 
The Immortal Poet, Shakespeare, truly says: 

"This above all to thine own self be true; 
And it must follow as the night the day, 
Thou canst not then be false to any man. " 

Hamlet Act /, ///. 


I." Sir Henry Maine Village Communities and Miscellanies, 
Page 238. Amer. Ed. 

2. Den ton J. Synder "Ancient European Philosophy," page 


3. Zeller "Socrates and the Socratic School, 1877 London," 

Page 1 1 6. 

4. Plato Phaedrus. 

5. Schwegler "History of Philosophy," Page 63. 

6. Gomperz "Greek Thinkers," Page 87. 

7. Zeller "Socrates and the Socratic School," Page 81. 

8. Lelut "Du Demon de Socrates 1836. 

9. Zeller "Socrates and the Socratic School," Page 83. 

10. Schwegler "History of Philosophy," Page 84. 

11. Draper "Intellectual Development of Europe," Vol. I, 

Page 147. 

12. Xenophon "Memorabilia," Page 8. (Dutton & Co., Every 

Man's Library). 

13. Ibid "Memorabilia, Page 29. 

14. Ibid "Memorabilia" Page 35. 

20O Socrates in the Light of Modern Psychopathology 

15. Ibid "Memorabilia," Page 21-23. 

1 6. Gomperz "History of Philosophy," Page 48. 

17. Schwegler "History of Philosophy," Page 75. 

18. Xenophon's "Memorabilia," Page 417-418. 

19. Plato "Crito." 

20. Lowell's "Present Crisis." 

21. Gomperz "Greek Thinkers, " Page 59. 

22. Schwegler's "History of Philosophy," Page 75. 

23. Ibid "History of Philosophy," Page 741. 

24. Forbes "Socrates" Page 191. 

25. Denton Snyder " History of Ancient European Philosophy, " 

Page 248-249. 

26. Zeller "Socrates and the Socratic School," Page 167. 

27. Denton Snyder " History of Ancient European Philosophy, "" 

Page 234. 

28. Forbes "Socrates," Page 173. 

29. Xenophon "Memorabilia," Page 121-123. 

30. Ibid "Memorabilia/ 9 Page 97-98. 




First Assistant Visiting Physician for Diseases of the Nervous System, 
Boston City Hospital, 

Instructor in Neurology, Tufts College Medical School 


complex construction of a psychoneurosis in an 
adult., due to the influence exerted by the multi- 
plicity of factors of civilization and cultural 
advancement, is sometimes so bewildering as to 
almost defy all attempts at analysis. In children, the 
organization of a psychoneurosis is usually very simple, 
almost monosymptomatic, and in children too, we often 
discover these neuroses in the actual process of making. 
When adult life is reached, the individual has left behind 
him all the factors of his childhood life and all the repressed 
experiences and desires which tend to produce his adult 
characteristics. Among adults of primitive races however, 
where the mental organization is far less complex than that 
of civilized man, certain psychoneurotic disturbances are 
found, which if analyzed, might disclose the mental mechan- 
isms of these disturbances reduced to their simplest terms. 

It has been my good fortune to be able to secure data of 
this sort, pertaining to certain curious nervous attacks which 
occur among the primitive races of the Fuegian Archipelago. 
These facts were supplied me, following along the lines of a 
questionnaire, by the well known explorer Charles Welling- 
ton Furlong, F. R. G. S., who in 19071908, was in charge 
of the first scientific expedition to cross through the heart of 
Tierra del Fuego. Mr. Furlong's keen powers of observa- 
tion, have made the data unusually complete. While he 
had no theory to offer in explanation of the attacks as seen 
among these primitive tribes, yet it is interesting to note 
that certain of the facts corroborate the well-known ideas 
of sexual repression as elaborated by Freud. The mental 

*Read by title at the Sixth Annual Meeting of the American Psychopatho- 
logical Association, New York, N. Y., May 5, 1915. 


202 Psychoneuroses Among Primitive Tribes 

organization of these people likewise, seems to substantiate 
certain psychoanalytic conceptions. For a clear comprehen- 
sion of these attack, certain preliminary anthropological and 
geographical data are necessary. 

The following data relates to the running amuck or out- 
burst, among the Yahgan and Ona tribes of the Fuegian 
Archipelago'. This data was obtained in 1907 and 1908 
during expeditions through the regions of the Fuegian Archi- 

The Yahgans, some forty years ago, numbered per- 
haps 2,500 but in 1908 had been reduced through contact 
with civilization and principally through an epidemic of 
measles to 173. These peoples are canoe Indians and inhabit 
today the island coasts from Beale Island to the Wollastons 
inclusive, in the neighborhood of Cape Horn, from about 
54 50' S. Lat. to about 55 56' S. Lat., making them the 
southern-most inhabitants of the world. The Ona Indians, 
a taller and finer race physically, who are foot Indians, 
occupy the mountain and forest regions of southern Tierra 
del Fuego from approximately 53 50' S. Lat. to 55 3' S. 
Lat. The Onas formerly occupied the entire northern half 
of Tierra del Fuego and possibly numbered some 3,000, but 
through contact and warfare with the whites, who drove 
them south off the open lands of the north, they have been 
reduced to about 300. These peoples are of a light cinna- 
mon colored skin, black haired, and of a decided Amerindian 
type. The Onas are above average stature, the Yahgans 
below it. 

It is not an infrequent occurence for individuals among 
both the Yahgans and Onas to be subject to sudden out- 
bursts of furor and violence. At such times the individual 
will generally dash from the wigwam and rush wildly away, 
and will continue running until nearly or completely ex- 
hausted. The one afflicted may dash madly through the 
woods or sometimes climb up dangerous cliffs. At such 
times, however, it is the custom of some of the men to follow 
closely behind to see that harm does not come through 
injury against trees, stumbling, or falling from the cliffs. 
However, at such times they rarely touch the afflicted one 

Isador H. Coriat, M. D. 203 

except to prevent harm, and finally will lead him back to the 
camp, when the attack is over or when he is exhausted. 

While the attack occurs both among men and women, 
it seems to be more prevalent among men. The individuals 
in whom these attacks predominate are men in the prime 
of life, ranging from 25 to 35 years of age. These people are 
polygamous and as it is the custom for the old men to marry 
young girls, thus leaving 'the old women to the younger 
men, which in many instances causes a scarcity of women, 
it leaves a somewhat undesirable condition. 

In many instances the character of the attack confines 
itself to the mad rushing away, as above described, at other 
times attempts to injure or kill others are made. For in- 
stance, a rancher of Tierra del Fuego, was in the company 
of some Onas when suddenly a hatchet whizzed by him, 
barely missing his head, and buried itself in a log of the 
Indian shelter. This "was the result of an attack which 
seized upon one of the Onas who was afflicted thus from 
time to time* . The actual outburst in this case was sudden, 
although it is difficult to tell how long it might have been 
coming on in the form of brooding, which seems to be a 
premonitory phase of this condition. 

Concerning a personal experience with one of the early 
phases of an attack, Mr. Furlong states as follows: "I am 
fully convinced that one night, while camping alone with 
Onas in the heart of the Fuegian forests, that my head man 
Aanakin, who had a good many killings to his credit, was 
brooding as he sat in his wigwam, which opened towards 
the fire; he watched me for nearly an hour with an attitude 
and expression which reminded me of the look a dog takes 
on sometimes before he snaps. Aanakin I knew to be of a 
very moody nature but this particular mood was so marked 
and portended evil so noticeably toward me without any 
apparent cause, that I decided to do something to break its 
mental trend. So putting fresh wood on the fire, to make 
a more brilliant blaze, I walked directly into his wigwam 
and motioned to one of his two wives, who were lying beside 
him. There was a passing look of half-anger, half-surprise, 
but I gave no time for his mind to dwell in the same mood, 
for simultaneously I produced my note book and pencil and 

204 Psychoneuroses Among Primitive Tribes 

began to make drawings of animals and other things they 
were familiar with. They like to watch one draw and name 
the thing, and so I kept them busy for perhaps an hour, and 
finally had them in gales of laughter. I am quite convinced 
that I forestalled an attack or a condition akin to it. " 

It seems that an attack usually begins suddenly. How- 
ever, an instance Is given where an Ona became moody and 
realized that one of these attacks was coming on and putting 
his hands together begged to have his wrists and feet bound 
in order that he would not do himself or others any harm, 
or that it would not be thought that he meant to kill and 
consequently be shot in self defence. This would in a way 
seem to indicate that there was no amnesia for the attack, 
as the Indian undoubtedly realized what he had done in 
previous attacks. 

The moody state and the realization of what might 
follow as the attack comes on demonstrates a sense of 
uneasiness as the premonitory symptom of an attack, 
which ends in a state of utter exhaustion and sleep. The 
normal condition is resumed, practically on the awakening 
from sleep and recovery of strength. 

From a description of Donald McMillan the explorer, 
the Eskimo Piblokto strongly resembles these attacks of the 
Ona and Yahgan Indians with the exception that Piblokto 
was particularly prevalent among the women. 

How an attack begins is shown by the case of Aanakin, 
an Ona of Furlong's expedition. A certain form of melan- 
cholia, brooding or moodiness, seems to precede many of 
these attacks, with a realization sometimes that an attack 
is coming upon them. The Onas not being naturally a 
quarrelsome people, it may be that this realization and fore- 
boding of the attack accounts for their tendency to run 
away from their associates, when they have endured the 
strain as long as they can, thus placing themselves in a 
position to avoid deliberate attack or injury to those about 

It was further stated, in answer to the questionnaire 
"I cannot give you absolute data regarding laughing or 
crying in an attack, screaming, yells, foaming at the mouth, 
biting of tongue, tearing of clothes, although I am of the 

Isador H. Coriat, M. D. 205 

opinion that any or all of these things may and do occur. 
As to violent resistance, the case, where the man wished to 
be bound, would show there was violent resistance, and it is 
probable that partly for this reason the Onas and Yahgans 
do not molest the afflicted except to prevent them from 
harming themselves, prefering to wait until the paroxysm 
exhausts them. I cannot state positively as to whether 
the attack is explained by the natives as being due to an 
evil spirit. While these people are polygamous, though 
having no religious form of worship, they usually believe 
when any one has a disease that something has entered 
them or some one who dislikes them has surreptitiously sent 
some small animal or an arrow into them. Among the 
Yahgans the 'Yuccamoosh' (doctors) or magicians proceed 
to pretend to extract these objects by a form of squeezing 
and hugging the patient, in the meantime blowing, hissing, 
etc., to force the object or evil out. I have never known of 
their doing this, however, to a person suffering from an 

"I am unable to supply any direct data as to the relation 
of love, hunger, sexuality, death of relatives or absent rela- 
tives to an attack. On the death of a relative the Yahgans 
go through incantations in the form of a sort of weird death 
chant, which they often sing in unison at certain times of 
the day and night. They paint their faces to show the 
death to strangers, but they rarely mention the name of the 
dead, in fact by most it is considered an offence to do so. 
They say simply 'He is gone,' c He is y no more'; they feel 
the loss of relatives very keenly and sorrow for them, and 
sometimes become violent with grief and rage. 

"Regarding the primitive type of mental organization 
among these natives, despite Darwin's first opinion of 
them, which was subsequently modified, I consider these 
people inherently intelligent, though of a very primitive 
type as far as their culture is concerned, probably the most 
primitive in this hemisphere, perhaps in the world, as the 
Onas are today living in the Stone Age. Dr. E. Von Horn- 
bostel of Berlin University, who has collaborated with me 
in making a special study of my phonographic records of 
their songs, informs me that these songs are the most primi- 

206 Psychoneuroses Among Primitive Tribes 

tive American-Indian songs of which they have any record. " 
Of importance for a clear understanding of the mental 
traits of these Indian tribes, as the source from which these 
attacks develop, are the study of their dreams, their system 
of taboos and their myths. So far as could be determined 
from the data supplied, the dreams of these primitive races 
strongly resemble the dreams of children, as these aboriginal 
tribes possess many childlike attributes. In fact up to a 
certain age the civilized child is really a little savage, with 
his strong egotism and feelings of rivalry, his taboos, his 
jealousies and his few or no altruistic tendencies. In the 
child as in the savage, the wish and the thought are synon- 
ymous, both want their desires immediately gratified, al- 
though such gratification may be impossible in reality. 
The dreams of the Yahgan Indians are simple wish fulfil- 
ments, without disguise or elaboration, like the dreams of a 
civilized child. 

The Yahgan attitude toward death is the same as that 
of many primitive races. Any reference to death is strongly 
tabooed amongst them and to transgress this taboo, exposes 
the individual to grave danger and severe punishment, 
even the punishment of the thing tabooed. Thus the person 
who transgresses this taboo becomes himself taboo by 
arousing the anger or resentment of other members of the 
tribe. However, a certain ambivalent tendency seems to 
be present, for while the word death and the mention of the 
dead is prohibited, yet they feel deep grief and sorrow for 
dead relatives. Transgression of the taboo may arouse the 
other aspect of the ambivalent attitude, (for instance anger 
instead of sorrow) and it thus becomes a source of danger to 
the guilty individual and so by contagion and imitation to 
the community. This ambivalent tendency which leads to 
taboos is prominent among primitive races as well as in 
civilized children for instance, in the latter, the taboo of 
pronouncing certain words which leads to stammering or 
the taboo of objects possessing a sexual significance in pro- 
ducing kleptomania. As civilization and cultural advance- 
ment increase or as the child becomes the adult, the taboo 
tendency gradually declines, yet under certain conditions 
it may manifest itself as a psychoneurotic symptom. Since 

Isador H. Coriat, M. D. 207 

these particular primitive races have no conception of 
immortality, this taboo cannot be a religious or a moral 
obligation or prohibition, but a social phenomenon for the 
benefit of the tribe or for the physical welfare of the individ- 
uals comprising the tribe. Freud also has pointed out how 
the avoidence of the names of the dead because of fear of 
offence to the living is found among certain South American 

A third factor of importance is a study of their myths. 
These are the savage's day dreams. The relation between 
myths and dreams is well known, both having their roots 
in the unconscious thinking of the race. In the individual 
this unconscious mental process produces dreams, in the 
race and society, myths. Only one instance will be cited, 
the legend of the Yahgan Indians concerning the creation 
of the first man and woman. When one of the tribe was 
asked how the first human being came into the world, he 
replied that a long time ago the first man came down from 
the sky on a rope and later, the woman followed. Here is a 
striking instance of how an adult Indian had applied his 
knowledge of individual births literally to a cosmic process, 
a genuine creation myth as a form of symbolic thinking. 
There seems little doubt in this case, that the sky, which to 
all savages appears like a bowl, represented the uterus and 
the rope, the umbilical cord. The resemblance of this myth 
to certain birth and parturition dreams, as encountered in 
the psychoanalytic investigations of civilized adults, is cer- 
tainly strikng. 

How is this mass of material to be interpreted? The 
mental traits of these people, as shown by an analysis of 
their taboos, myths and dreams, are very primitive in 
organization, in fact, according to Mr. Furlong, they repre- 
sent the most primitive types of culture in the world and are 
today actually living in the Stone Age. Individuals of such 
primitive mental traits have not learned to successfully 
repress their emotions and hence are liable to sudden emo- 
tional outbursts. Substitution and repression in civilized 
races are utilized to cover our complex and multifarious ways 
of expressing our social wishes and wants. In the savage 

208 Psychoneuroses Among Primitive Tribes 

there is little or no repression and substitution, because his 
desires are simple and easily satisfied. 

These primitive people therefore resemble children, 
without inhibitions or repressions and hence their attacks of 
violence and furor as above described are sudden emotional 
reactions, perhaps hysterical, but without any phenomena 
of conversion. The relation of the attacks to an unsati-- 
fied sexual craving is shown by the fact that the attacks 
occur only in young men whose libido remains unsatisfied, 
because according to tribal custom they are compelled to 
marry old women, or, in the words of the explorer who lived 
among these people, "old derelicts." This factor, com- 
bined with the observation that the victims of the attacks 
are free from loss of consciousness and amnesia and the ab- 
sence of an absolute evidence pointing to foaming at the 
mouth or biting of the tongue, would seem to indicate that 
the outburst was hysterical rather than epileptic in nature. 
It would thus correspond to the Piblokto of the Eskimos 
as described by Brill. This resemblance was also noted by 
the explorer in his comparative description of the two dis- 

It seems^that the attacks themselves are motivated, 
not so much by the actual gross sexual as by an ungratified 
or only partially gratified love which would occur in a man 
who is compelled by social and tribal custom to marry an 
old woman. Among the Eskimos this factor is at work in 
the women, among the Fuegians in the men. Conversion 
phenomena were absent, because their mental organization 
is very simple, in the same way that childhood hysteria is 
free from conversion symptoms or at the most is mono- 


A. Brill Piblokto or Hysteria among Peary's Eskimos. 
Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease, Vol. 40 No. 8 1913. 

S. Freud Totem und Tabu 1913. 

E. Kraepelin Vergleichende Psychiatric. Central- 
blatt f. Nervenheilk. U. Psychiatrie. Bd. XV. July, 1904. 


The Ohio State University 

first case here reported came to the notice of 
the writer through the attending physician; the 
second case was reported by the father of the 
child after the attending physician had failed of 
satisfactory treatment. The second case is especially inter- 
esting and serviceable in connection with the phenomenon 
of visual space perception. 

The first case is that of a boy, nine years of age, healthy, 
vigorous, who in his play ground and street reactions parallels 
that of any normal boy of his age. Aside from measles and 
an occasional disturbance of digestion he has been singularly 
free from childhood's common - diseases. The father and 
mother are strong Hanoverian Germans holding with puri- 
tanic strictness to the dogmas of the Lutheran religious faith. 
So far as is ascertainable there can be no question of faulty 
inheritance, at least not so far as the immediate parents and 
grandparents enter into the problem. 

The child upon retiring and usually while still wide 
awake uttered wild screams of terror. Upon inquiry the 
child complained of falling and clutched vigorously to the bed 
clothes and the arms of the parents. Usually the phenomenon 
disappeared when he was taken out of bed and walked about 
but reappeared when he lay down. He complained of pain 
in his eyes, neck and fore- and after-parts of his head. No 
amount of persuasion dispelled the illusion. It should be 
emphasized that the illusion occurred in full waking state 
and rarely as a dream. 

An attempt was made to correlate the illusion with the 
momentum of the day's activity. According to the parents 
the illusion appeared in aggravated form when the neighbor- 
hood boys congregated in a cluster of trees at the edge of the 
village and when playing "train" in which case the barn-top 
functioned as the locomotive while a high board fence and 


2io Two* Interesting Cases of Illusion of Perception 

an adjoining neighbor's barn functioned as the cars and 
caboose respectively. 

The village physician offered no explanation. He pre- 
scribed a hot bath and a "closer supervision of the evening 
meal." The dilatation of the cutaneous capillaries conse- 
quent to the bath lowered the cerebral circulation and to 
some extent reduced the intensity of the illusion. 

The cue to the cure appeared when the child, in ex- 
pressing his fear, complained because he could not see the 
parent who sat beside him on the bed. Upon lighting the 
room the child seemed pacified but still held tightly to any- 
thing within reach. As a rule the illusion disappeared within 
thirty minutes after illumination. It was then suggested 
that the child be put to bed in a well lighted room. This 
was done but the phenomenon reappeared although in a 
less aggravated form. Degree of illumination and intensity 
of the illusion appeared related 1 . The phenomenon failed 
to appear at all when a coal oil lamp was placed beside the 
bed not over two feet from the child's head. For six months 
the boy went to sleep facing the full glare of the lamp. 
Gradually the lamp was removed until it occupied a position 
in the hall. Whenever the illusion recurred the lamp was 
replaced in its original position. 

It is quite probable that the intensity of the visual 
stimulus (the lamp) deflected the nervous current from the 
neural processes underlying the illusion and thus changed 
the direction of attention. Any intense distraction, other 
than the one employed, would probably have served the 
same purpose. At the end of a year and a half the phe- 
nomenon entirely disappeared. 

The second case is that of a six-year-old girl, the daugh- 
ter of highly educated parents. With reference to this case 
two interesting phenomena were observed: (a) that of mir- 
ror-writing of the common variety and (b) that of ambiguous 
interpretation of the retinal impressions. 

The phenomenon of mirror-writing here observed 
parallels that of many other cases in which the left-right 
direction is reversed. These commoner cases take on an 
added interest when considered in connection with a case 

George F. Arps 211 

of double space inversion* Such a case is on record.* The 
double inversion consists in writing all verbal symbols and 
digits up side down and backward* In this case the boy had 
perfect pseudoscopic vision at the beginning of his school 
work. Stratton, by a system of lenses, artifically produces 
the same distortions and throws some light on the phe- 
nomenon. f 

It is in the phenomenon of ambiguity in the interpreta- 
tion of the retinal eye processes that this case finds its value. 
At the dinner table the child complained of the decrease in 
size of a number of objects in the room, especially was this 
true of the apparent size of the father's head. The fre- 
quency of the complaint led the father to seek the advice 
of an occulist who pronounced the child's vision perfect in 
every way. Over and over again while seated at the dinner 
table the child would exclaim, **O father how small your 
head is!" 

The explanation of this phenomenon is found in the 
method employed to dispell the illusion. It was suggested 
that, at the moment of the appearance of the phenomenon^ 
the child be requested to fixate the end of the father's index 
finger which was revolved, in the air, to form various geomet- 
rical figures. This had the desired effect. Clearly we 
have here a case of the object altering its apparent size with- 
out altering its distance. Under normal conditions a change 
in size is followed by a corresponding change in the distance. 
It is probable that we have here inadequate convergence 
and that the optic axes do not intersect at the object but 
beyond, so that the axes are more or less parallel. Thus the 
feeling of convergence is less intense than experience teaches 
is necessary to perceive the object as such a size and at such a 
distance. If degree of convergence is a criterion for distance 
and if distance is a measure for the apparent size of an 
object then we have the conditions necessary for the appear- 
ance of the illusion, 

Here we have the retinal image constant for the apparent 
and the real size of the* object (head). Obviously the retinal 
processes are constant for the two interpretations of magni- 

*G. F. Arps, a Note on a Case of Double Space Inversion. Annals of 
Ophthalmology, July, 1914, Vol. XXIII, p. 482. 

fPsychological Review, Vol. IV, pp. 341-360 and 463-481. 

212 Two Interesting Cases of Illusion of Perception 

tude and the ambiguity is due to the concomitant factor of 

The conditions necessary to decrease the real size of an 
object while still maintaining an unaltered image are pro- 
duced without artificial means. Wheatstone, a long time 
ago, arranged his stereoscope so that a negative correlation 
obtained between the degree of convergence and size of the 
retinal image.* 

Very interesting is the fact that Stratton demonstrated 
by artificial means what was naturally the case in that of the 
boy reported in the Annals referred to above. Wheatstone 
demonstrated by artificial means what was naturally thejcase 
in that of the girl here reported. 

*Philosophical Transactions, 1852. 



H. H. Goddard. The Macmillan Co., N. "Y"., 1914. 599 pp., illus- 

Two comprehensive attempts have been made in recent 
years to study the inheritance of mental abnormality, one in Eng- 
land at the Eugenics Laboratory of the University of London, the 
other in this country under the leadership, more or less immediate, 
of the Eugenics Record Office. Both the English and the Ameri- 
can school of workers agree that different grades of mental ability, 
mental defect and insanity are strongly inherited. But the two 
schools have reached very different conclusions as to the manner 
of inheritance of mental traits and mental defects. Each school 
entertains profound disrespect for the scientific methods and con- 
clusions of the other and with the frankness and honesty which 
devotion to truth demand has freely criticised the other. By this 
criticism, at the bottom friendly though sometimes caustic, science 
has undoubtedly profited. The later "work of each school begins 
to show the chastening influence of adverse criticism. 

The English school has leaned back-ward in its devotion to the 
inductive method of accumulating inheritance data, ostensibly 
without prejudice for or against any particular theory but in 
reality with an ill-concealed bias against anything savoring of 
"Mendelism. " The American school recognizing in Mendelism a 
great advance and an important instrument for the discovery of 
new truth, has ignored the possibility that other undiscovered 
laws of heredity may exist and has cast aside as superfluous the 
valuable biometric tools wrought with much patient toil by Galton 
and Pearson. It will be the part of wisdom for students of genetics 
to imitate the hostile attitude of neither school, but to utilize the 
positive results of both. This is what Dr. Goddard has done in 
the work under review. 

He apparently began studying the inheritance of feeble- 
mindedness without theoretical prejudice, but with a practical 
end in view-, to discover, if possible, the causes of feeble-mindedness 
so as to deal intelligently with the inmates of the Vineland (N. J.) 
institution with which he is connected. Goddard received in- 


214 Reviews 

spiratiotl and suggestion from the Mendelian principles which 
dominate the work of the Eugenics Record Office, but has pub- 
lished his observations in detail so that the reader may test by 
them any theory he likes. This method can not be too highly 
commended for it gives permanent value to the publication, how- 
ever much prevailing theories may change. The book contains a 
detailed study of 327 "cases," each being the family history of a 
different inmate of the Vmeland institution, as made out by trained 
investigators who visited the homes of the inmates and held inter- 
views with their parents, relatives, friends and neighbors. English 
criticism of American work of this sort had prepared the reader to 
expect carelessness of method and inaccuracy in the accumulation 
of data, but Dr. Goddard is evidently on his guard against this. 
He goes very fully into the method of obtaining and verifying the 
data, and in doing so gives a very strong impression that the data 
are "reliable." His treatment of the data is also cautious but 
thorough, so that when he works his way to a conclusion it stands 
firmly established. The conclusions reached are numerous and 
important, but the one of greatest theoretical interest is this, that 
feeble-mindedness is inherited as a simple recessive Mendelian 
unit-character. This conclusion, so far as earlier publications 
were concerned, might be regarded as insufficiently established, 
but the evidence presented in this work renders it, I think, beyond 
question. Goddard was himself apparently considerably sur- 
prised at the conclusion reached. He had expected to find differ- 
ent kinds or grades of mental defect independently inherited as 
units and confesses to leanings toward views of the physiological 
independence of different mental functions, but his "cases" give 
him no evidence of such inheritance. He finds only that feeble 
minds are minds of arrested development in regard to all functions, 
and that different .grades of feeble-mindedness correspond with 
different stages of normal mental development completely arrested. 
How different grades may occur in one and the same Mendelian 
unit is apparently 'a puzzle to Goddard, who does not attempt its 
explanation. It is indeed an absurdity to the "pure line" Men- 
delian, but not to 'one who appreciates the fact that Mendelian 
units are subject to quantitative variation sometimes continuous, 
sometimes discontinuous. An example of the former is found in 
the hooded pattern of rats,* of the latter in albinism and other 
*Castle and Phillips, 1914, Publ. No. 195, Carnegie Inst. of Wash. 

Reviews 215 

Mendelizing characters which assume multiple allelomorphic con- 
ditions.* Pearson has steadfastly refused to admit that albinism 
in man is a Mendelizing character, because it may assume various 
forms ranging from colorless to quite heavily pigmented conditions 
(blondes). We now find that albinism in guinea-pigs shows an 
even greater range of variation,! yet there can be no doubt of its 
fundamental unity as a Mendelian character, each grade of which 
is allelomorphic to every other grade and to normal pigmentation. 

Goddard's findings as regards feeble-mindedness fit in per- 
fectly with this scheme. That Goddard was unaware of it when 
his conclusions were reached is all the more evidence of their 
soundness because it shows that they were reached independently. 
Among albinos every higher grade of pigmentation dominates all 
the lower grades in inheritance, and so apparently it is with mental 
development; the higher grades dominate the lower. At every 
point there appears to be agreement in method of inheritance 
between albinism and feeble-mindedness. Each is a unit character 
but showing graded allelomorphic conditions which correspond 
probably with different stages of arrested development of pig- 
mentation or mentality respectively. 

The fact noted by Goddard that the feeble-minded resemble 
savages, that is backward races of low mentality, has much interest 
to the student of evolution. It indicates that the evolution of 
intelligence has occurred by a gradual progressive advancement, 
stages in which reappear as the higher grades of feeble-mindedness. 
Of course it is not certain that the ontogenetic stages, at which 
mental development may be arrested, correspond accurately with 
earlier phylogenetic stages, but the idea receives considerable 
support from the observed resemblance between the mentality - c 
morons and that of savage peoples, if the observation may ; 
.accepted as accurate. I do not understand however that God I 
makes any claim to first-hand familiarity with the mental 7 jf 
savages, so that no great emphasis should be laid on the at. 
But the mere fact that retrogressive variation in mentality i fded 
favors the view that its progressive evolution has been iual, 
rather than the view that it has arisen by mutation or si ,h loss 
of inhibitors. (Bateson, Davenport). 

Goddard points out that a high grade moron may /a useful 

*Castle and Fish, Amer. Nat., Feb., 1915. 

fWright, S. Amer. Nat., March, 1915. - >' 

216 Reviews 

and self-supporting member of society in some environments 
(usually rural) whereas he would be quite helpless in the keen 
competition of urban life. This suggestion leads the reader to 
wonder whether many peasant and peon populations of the old 
and new world represent survivals of an older and lower grade of 
mental evolution than has been attained in the more advanced 
nations, or whether it is merely lack of opportunity that makes 
these populations backward. The fact that in every generation 
great men come from the lower social levels shows that the lower 
classes are not entirely devoid of capacity; nevertheless it seems 
probable that a low grade of intelligence would stand a better 
chance of escaping elimination in the struggle for existence when 
placed in a simple environment than when placed in a complex 
one. Consequently, under modern conditions, we might expect 
a peasant or peon population to average lower in mental capacity 
than a community more advanced in civilization. Whether the 
peasant population would equal in average intelligence a band of 
North American Indians or a tribe of native New Zealanders is 
very doubtful, for in such peoples natural selection for intelligence 
was undoubtedly severe because of their intense struggle with 
nature and with other tribes, unaided by the accumulated knowl- 
edge and tools of civilized communities. Among such peoples 
greater demands were probably made on inborn intelligence than 
among modern industrial populations. 

As regards the causes of feeble-mindedness Goddard's findings 
are wholly negative, but not less valuable on that account. His 
case histories statistically studied indicate no causal relation to a 
number of reputed agencies in the creation of feeble-mindedness, 
such as alcoholism (which he regards as oftener a symptom than a 
cause), tuberculosis, sexual immorality, insanity, syphilis, accident 
and consanguinity. He recognizes heredity as its principal source, 
i. <?. he recognizes feeble-mindedness as a stage of mentality already 
existing and transmissible by the ordinary mechanism of heredity, 
but does not attempt further to account for it, either as a survival 
or as an atavism. 

That humanitarian governments by shielding and supporting 
the moron without putting a limit on his naturally high repro- 
duction will speedily increase this class at the expense of the more 
intelligent classes of the community is self-evident, if it is admitted 
that feeble-mindedness is hereditary, as all who have investigated' 

Reviews 217 

the matter carefully now declare. Goddard shows further that a 
large percentage (probably more than half) of the alcoholism, 
pauperism, prostitution, and crime, of the United States are direct- 
ly traceable to hereditary feeble-mindedness, another strong reason 
for taking measures to reduce it. 

How is this to be done? Goddard has no cure-all to offer but 
urges first of all that the mental grade of each individual be accur- 
ately determined and education and occupation be provided suited 
to his capacity. This will tend to make the moron a useful and 
contented member of the community, not a menace to it. Segrega- 
tion is recommended so far as practicable, but in view of the large 
number (estimated at 300,000 to 400,000 in the U. S.) Goddard 
considers segregation of all impracticable. Nevertheless he urges 
further and energetic efforts in this direction, that as many as 
possible may be segregated as a safeguard against their reproduc- 
tion. In individual cases cc sterilization wisely and carefully prac- 
ticed' 9 must be employed to insure non-reproduction, 

In this volume there is a pleasing absence of the rant which 
pervades some eugenic literature. The author has something of 
importance to contribute to science and he presents his contribu- 
tion in a sober, dignified manner in keeping with the important 
character of his contribution. 


By J. B. Hannay, (Francis Griffiths, London; pp. 394). 

This is an attempt to expound the symbolism of the Christian 
religion. It is divided into three main parts: ancient cults (phal- 
lism and sun worship); ancient cults in the Old Testament; ancient 
cults hi the New Testament. The author's main thesis can be 
stated in a sentence: the essential constituents of every religion, 
and the underlying meaning of its symbolism, are phallicism and 
sun worship. Of these the former is the more important, more 
primary, and more wide-spread; the latter is a superimposed layer 
better adapted to more civilized and educated people, but rarely 
penetrating into the hearts of the common people to the extent 
that the former has. "The great branches under which all the 
religious systems of the past have developed may be classed as 

21 8 Reviews 

based, on the one hand on the consideration of our world and the 
continuity of life upon it, expressed in P'hallic symbolism, and on 
the other hand, on the Sun as the great giver and sustainer of man, 
expressed in Solar symbolism." (p. 21). "As the Phallic cult 
was much the older, it retained its position after the rise of the 
Solar cult. It required a much higher intelligence to grasp the 
facts of Solar worship, so it never entered the 'hearts' of the 
common people as did the Phallic worship, but it had a much more 
intelligent priesthood, and was the arbiter in all questions of dates, 
and regulated all feasts; and, what was more important to the 
people, fixed the time for payments of debts or interest, and regulat- 
ed the times of sowing and harvesting, so it became a much more 
'official' religion than Phallism. " In support of these conclu- 
sions the author marshals a huge number of facts, so that the work 
becomes a veritable encyclopaedia of symbolism. 

Now in spite of the fact that the reviewer fully accepts the 
main thesis of the book, as stated above, and therefore has no 
prejudice or hostility on the store of the conclusions encunciated 
being distasteful, his judgment of the book is entirely unfavourable, 
for the following reasons: In the first place, any pretence of the 
book to be a scientific, and therefore impartial, contribution to 
knowledge is invalidated by the author's moral bias evident from 
beginning to end, against religion in general, and Christianity 
in particular, which he maintains is the most phallic of all religions. 
His point of view is that of the older rationalists, to whom religion 
is nothing but an unfortunate instinct for "delight in the miracu- 
lous, " expressing itself in phallic and J suii worship, and fostered by 
the exploiting tendencies of priests. His desire seems to be, in 
writing the book, to "show up" religion and, by discrediting it, 
hasten its end. 

In the second place, there is not a single new idea in all its 
closely packed pages, and therefore no excuse for writing them, 
since the material here laboriously brought together is easily 
accessible in other books. It never seems to dawn on the author 
that pointing out the sexual basis of religion, which countless 
other writers have already done, is but the beginning of the prob- 
lem, the starting-point of all sorts of complex riddles. Having 
dogmatically divided all religious symbols into male and female, 
he is self-satisfied enough to think that he has explained religion. 
There is no inkling of the points of view suggested by such words 

Reviews 219 

as determinism, significance, genesis, so familiar to the modern 

Side by side with all this goes a disorderly arrangement and 
very imperfect powers of criticism. The latter feature is especially 
marked in the field of etymology, where the author fairly lets 
himself run wild. The following gem is a typical example (p. 1 10) : 
"Bacchus became degraded into the God of Wine, and his fetes 
became drunken orgies, but he was originally the beneficent sun 
who ripened the fruits, and hence God of Wine, from which, 
indeed, is derived the English name of all our gods, angels, prophets, 
or even parsons, "divines, " "dei vini, " "Gods of Wine. " Jesus 
was the "True Vine. " 

The merits of the book are that it may direct the attention 
of some people to the connection between sex and religion, if 
there are any who are still unaware of this, and that it possesses 
a good index that may be useful to readers with limited facilities 
for looking up particular symbolisms; it is also well illustrated. 


Bergson. Translated by C. Brereton and F. Rothwell. (Macmil- 
lan, London, 1913. Pp. 200). 

In this stimulating little book Professor Bergson propounds 
his theory of the comic, which is shortly to the following effect. 
Noting first that laughter is purely a human phenomenon, and 
therefore probably has a social significance, he seeks for this by 
trying to define what are the essential features of the comical. 
He reduces the various characteristic features in the main to one, 
namely, automatism on the part of the comical person or thing. 
This automatism is of a special kind; especially is it an automatism 
that is out of place, that occurs at the expense of spontaneity, 
vitality, and freshness. It may thus be defined as "something 
mechanical in something living," "a kind of absentmindedness 
on the part of life." "The comic is that side of a person which 
reveals his likeness to a thing, that aspect of human events which 
through its peculiar inelasticity, conveys the impression of pure 
mechanism, of automatism, of movement without life." "To 
imitate anyone is to bring out the element of automatism he has 

220 Reviews 

allowed to creep into his person. And as this is the very essence 
of the ludicrous, it is no wonder that imitation gives rise to laugh- 
ter. " This bald statement of Bergson's conclusion ifc p in the 
reviewer's opinion, made very convincing by the delicate analysis 
he proffers of numerous illustrations. 

Up to this point Bergson's theory of the comic fairly well 
coincides with that of Freud. The latter author, it is true, summa- 
rises his conclusions in different language. But the meaning is 
not very different. For him the feeling of comicality is an 
"economy of ideational expenditure," and it is evoked by the 
sight of another person who in a given performance displays either 
a lack of mental activity or an excess of physical, i.e., who is either 
stupid or clumsy. Compare this formulation with Bergson's. 
The latter says that the opposite of the comic is gracefulness, 
rather than beauty. "It partakes rather of the unsprightly than 
of the unsightly, of rigidness rather than of ugliness. " The 
replacement of mental by physical activity is insisted on in the 
following passage: "Any incident is comic that calls our attention 
to the physical in a person, when it is the moral (i. e. mental) that 
is concerned." Again, he compares a comical person to "a person 
embarrassed by his body." His automatism is essentially a lack 
of mental nimbleness, a formal lack of mental elasticity, a defective 
capacity for rapid adjustment, in short, a mental laziness. And 
especially is this defect one of consciousness. The failure is on 
the part of the higher mental activities, which should be the most 
alert, and what happens is a relapse into unconscious, automatic 
modes of functioning, a form of absentmindness. "The comic is 
that element by which the person unwittingly betrays himself 
the involuntary gesture or the unconscious remark. Absentmind- 
edness is always comical. Systematic absentmindedness, like 
that of Don Quixote, is the most comical thing imaginable . . 

No one can be comical unless there be some aspect 

of his person of which he is unaware, one side of his nature which 
he overlooks; on that account alone does he make us laugh." 

In substantial agreement on this general conclusion as to 
mental rigidity and bodily clumsiness, the two views diverge from 
here. According to Bergson, the comic presupposes "something 
like a momentary anaesthesia of the heart; " " laughter is incompat- 
ible with emotion." For Freud this absence of emotion is much 
more characteristic of humour than of the comic, two matters that 

Reviews 221 

Bergson quite fails to distinguish. Then, whereas Freud explains 
the subjective side of the comic purely on hedonic principles, 
Bergson sees in it an important sccbl function. According to him, 
laughter is one of society^ weapons for dealing with tendencies 
that threaten to diverge from the conventional and accepted norm. 
It "restrains eccentricity" and "corrects unsociability. " "Any 
individual is comic who automatically goes his own way without 
troubling himself about getting into touch with the rest of his 
fellow-beings. It is the part of laughter to reprove his absent- 
mindness and wake him out of his dream .... Each 
member must be ever attentive to his social surroundings; he must 
model himself on his environment; in short, he must avoid shutting 
himself up in his own peculiar character as a philosopher in his 
ivory tower. Therefore society holds suspended over each in- 
dividual member, if not the threat of correction, at all events the 
prospect of a snubbing, which, although it is slight, is none, the 
less dreaded. Such must be the function of laughter. 
It represses separatist tendencies." "Unsociability in the per- 
former and insensibility in the spectator such, in a word, are the 
two essential conditions." This interesting theory leaves some 
questions unanswered. Why, for instance, should onlooking 
society remain emotionally cold in one case, and merely laugh, and 
in another case adopt much graver measures? Bergson deals 
with this point rather imperfectly. It is not the seriousness of 
the case that decides, for "we now see that the seriousness of the 
case is of no importance either: whether serious or trifling, it is 
still capable of making us laugh, provided that care be taken not 
to arouse our emotions." Nor is it the immoral nature of the 
deviation from the normal. "The comic character may, strictly 
speaking, be quite in accord with stern morality. All it has to do 
is to bring itself into accord with society." "It is the faults of 
others that make us laugh, provided we add that they make us 
laugh by reason of their unsociability rather than of their im- 
morality. " The most specific criterion seems, in Bergson's opinion, 
to be that of vanity. " It might be said that the specific remedy 
for vanity is laughter, and that the one failing that is essentially 
laughable is vanity. " 

We may briefly refer to some other matters dealt with more 
incidentally; wit, and the relation of the comic to art and to dreams. 
The discussion of wit is perhaps the weakest part of the book. 

222 Reviews 

No analysis is given of the different f$rms of wit, and the important 
subject of what may be called it$ technique is quite passed by. 
Wit is identified in a superficj^Waanner with the comic in general, 
the fundamental differences between the two, which Freud has 
dealt so exhaustively >vith, being altogether ignored. Bergson 
gives a more interesting and profitable study of the relation of the 
comic to art, especially of the nature of comedy as distinct from 
other forms of drama. According to him, comedy portrays 
character types rather than individual persons. He repeatedly 
insists on this point, adding that "it is the only one of all the arts 
that aims afr'the general; so that once this objective has been 
attributed to it, we have said all that it is and all that the rest 
cannot be. " Further, "comedy lies midway between art and life. 
It is not disinterested as genuine art is. By organizing laughter, 
comedy accepts social life as a, natural environment, it even obeys 
an impulse of social life. And in this respect it turns its back 
upon art, which is a breaking away from society and a return to 
pure nature." The discussion of the relation of the comic to 
dreaims is, on the other hand, less satisfying. Comic absurdity 
is stated to be of the same nature as that of dreams. The main 
point of resemblance seems to be that in both cases there occurs 
an absence of social contact. In both there is a mental relaxation 
from the effort of " seeing nothing but what is existent and think- 
ing nothing but what is consistent." This really applies much 
more to wit than to the comic itself. 

As may be expected, the whole book is written in Professor 
Bergson's pleasing style, and is full of suggestive hints and fresh 
points of view. The most significant contribution, one which 
pervades the book throughout, is the view of laughter as a social 
censor. Even if this hypothesis is substantiated by detailed in- 
vestigation, however, it cannot rank as a complete theory of 
laughter, or of the comic, until it is supplemented by some explana- 
tion, not given by the author, of the most striking feature of 
laughter, its capacity for yielding pleasure. 

It only remains to say that the translation is literally excellent. 


Reviews 223 


Journal of Insanity, Special Number, Vol. LXIX, No. 5, The 
Johns Hopkins Press, 1915. 

This special number of the American Journal of Insanity 
contains the exercises and papers delivered at the opening at the 
Phipp.s Psychiatric Clinic at the Johns Hopkins Hospital, Balti- 
more, Md. The contents of the entire volume should prove to be 
of the greatest interest to all students and lovers of psychiatry. 
The volume opens with a brief but fitting Introduction by Dr. 
Adolf Meyer, Director of the Clinic, a man to whom American 
psychiatry owes so much for the stimulus and inspiration which 
he has injected into others. This is followed by A Word of Ap- 
preciation by Henry D. Harland, President Trustees, The Johns 
Hopkins Hospital, some brief remarks on The Psychiatric Clinic 
and the Community by Stewart Paton, the heart-to-heart talk on 
Sp^ecialism in the General Hospital by Sir William Osier, and a 
short talk on The Purpose of the Psychiatric Clinic by Prof. 
Adolf Meyer. There then follow a series of fascinating and 
inspiring papers, as follows: The Sources and Direction of Psycho- 
physical Energy, by William McDougall;' Autistic Thinking by 
E. Bleuler; Personality and Psychosis by August Hoch; The Per- 
sonal Factor in Association Reactions by Frederic Lyman Wells; 
A Study of the Neuropathic Inheritance by F. W. Mott; On the 
Etiology of Pellagra and its Relation to Psychiatry by O. Rossi; 
Psychic Disturbances Associated with Disorders of the Ductless 
Glands, by Harvey Gushing; Primitive Mechanisms of Individual 
Adjustment by Stewart Paton; Demenzprobleme by K. Heilbron- 
ner; The Inter-relation of the Biogenetic Psychoses by Ernest 
Jones; Prognostic Principles in the Biogenetic Psychoses, with 
Special Reference to the Katatonic Syndrome by George H. 
Kirby; Anatomical Borderline between the So-called Syphilitic 
and Metasyphilitic Disorders in the Brain and Spinal Cord by 
Charles B. Dunlap; and Mental Disorders and Cerebral Lesions 
Associated with Pernicious Anemia by Albert Moore Barrett. 
The number is concluded by the penetrating Closing Remarks of 
Prof. Adolf Meyer. 

The papers by Mott, Rossi, Gushing and Heilbronner are of 
the greatest interest. The discussions by McDougall and Bleuler 

224 Reviews 

are fascinating and uplifting. McDougall's paper is a master- 
piece. Kirby, Jones and Hoch present us with the modern stand- 
points in the conception of the psychoses. Throughout the 
volume one sees the adoption of the broad biological standpoint 
in mental life. The adoption of the term "biogenetic psychoses" 
is indicative of the general trend. The adoption of this well- 
chosen phrase is, I venture to suggest, the product of Dr. Meyer. 

The reviewer regrets that the papers do not very well lend 
themselves for brief reviews. Furthermore, he would not attempt 
to briefly present the views which have been so lucidly and suc- 
cintly expressed by the individual writers. 

Prof. Meyer is to be commended for the very splendid program 
presented at the opening exercises of the Phipps Psychiatric Clinic. 

May it be a lasting inspiration for those who drink at the 
fountain of psychiatry and psychopathology. 



+ 219. Little, Brown & Co., 1915. $1.00 net. 


194. Little, Brown & Co. $1.00 net. 




Instructor in Neuropathology^ Tufts College Medical School, 
In Charge Voice Clinic^ Boston State Hospital, Psychopathic 


object of this paper is to carry the analysis of 
stutter phenomena deeper than before. In my last 
year's paper I showed that chronologically the 
diagnosis of dyslalia mounted step by step from a 
material external affair, up through the nerves until we 
came to the basal ganglia. I showed conclusively that it 
was an involvement that did not exist in any of these places. 
I further took steps to demonstrate and present evidence 
that indicated that dyslalia was in its essence some trouble 
with the personality. I mean by this : that the trouble was 
located in the nervous system beyond the lower sensory areas 
of the sensorium; and also above the lower motor areas on 
the motor side. By the broad term "personality" I mean 
the total of the activities and interrelations of mental 
activities that occur above our lower sensory and motor 
areas. The paper of last year clearly located the trouble 
vaguely in this region of the personality. 

Since that time I have been interested to ascertain 
just what the nature of this changed personality is. In 
order to do so, I have carried on an investigation that has 
reached interesting conclusions. To me it is new truth. 
It may not be all the truth, but as far as it goes, and as for 
what it is, it surely is truth and a new finding! This re- 
search is an effort to show not only where it is but what it is. 
The method was as follows: For the purpose of finding 

Paper read May 6, 1914, at Albany, New York, before the American Psycho- 
pathological Association. 

Copyright 1915 by Richard G. Badger. All rights reserved. 


226 A Psychological Analysis of Stuttering 

out some of the activities going on in the area of collaboration 
during speech, I asked my stuttering patients two simple 
questions. I thus found that their methods of collaboration 
complied to a certain mental type. 

Then I carried this same method into the study of 
normal individuals in the collaboration of their ideas, just 
before and during speech in order to establish a norm; and to 
see whether or not it differed from my preliminary test of 
stuttering cases just mentioned. It did, and therefore I 
formulated a series of questions in order to pin the type of 
collaboration down to certain fields of mental action. To 
make this clear, let me present an outline of these different 
steps in tabular form. 

1. Orientation tests on stutterers. 

2. Orientation tests on normal individuals. 

3. The research, its objects and methods. 

4. Final detailed results. 

Let us now pass to a minuter description of each of 
these procedures and a tabulation of the data that resulted. 


By orientation test I mean simply a vague try-out to 

see just where the problem lies; an initial step to see what 

further steps are necessary; or in other words enough of an 

investigation to know where to look next. 

The orientation tests consisted in requesting a series 
of twenty stuttering cases to answer two questions. Follow- 
ing their answers an immediate inspection was made of the 
content of their consciousness before, during, and after 
speech. These two questions were as follows: 

1. Where do you live? 

2. Say after me "The dog ran across the street. 55 

After these questions I asked the patients to state 
whether there was any picture in the content of consciousness 
and how long it lasted; also whether that was detailed, in- 
tense or weak. I noted the presence of stuttering in relation 

Walter B. Swift 227 

to the presence or absence of this mental imagery; and also 
made a note of any other unusual data that happened. The 
results of the tests indicated above can be summarized as 
follows : 

Of the twenty stutterers examined, ten made no visuali- 
zation of their homes, some even after a residence of years; 
one of these twenty visualized home very faintly; two others 
visualized home clearly but the picture vanished on speaking; 
seven others visualized home clearly but these had been 
under treatment. 

On repeating the dog statement, ten stutterers made no 
visualization whatever; one visualized faintly; four visualized 
well but the picture vanished on speaking; five others report- 
ed visualization, and four of these had been under treatment. 

At first I did not know but what this was the norm of 
average visualization methods; so I tried this same series 
upon a number of normal individuals for comparison; by 
normal individuals, I mean, at this time, merely anyone who 
is free from stuttering, and chosen in a haphazard way from 
the hospital community; for example, one was our executive 
secretary, another a typewriter, another a telephone operator 
and so on. 


The results of these orientation tests upon normal in- 
dividuals were as follows: 

The normal individuals examined almost without ex- 
ception visualized clearly before and during speech. Some- 
times this visualization "was very marked in detail and 
resulted in emotional responses, such as pleasures, etc. 

From the above ,two sets of figures were thus obtained a 
fair norm of visualization for ordinary individuals; and in 
comparison a marked variation from this in stutterers. 
This data therefore warranted the tentative conclusio 
that stutterers have a loss or diminished power of visualiza- 
tion. This assertion may seem a little more than is warrant- 
ed by such meagre data and perhaps would be better revised 

228 A Psychological Analysis of Stuttering 

pending further data into the following: As compared with 
the normal, stutterers show a weakness in visualization. 


These general orientation tests for a norm and its 
pathological variation were the basis upon which I proceeded 
on broader lines with a further and more exhaustive in- 
vestigation with the following points in view: 

To what extent is visualization weak? 

Is it weaker in the worst cases? 

Is it less and less weak as cases appear less severe? 

Is it the same for past, present and future memories? 

Is visualization equally at fault in all sensory areas of 
the cortex? 

Do cases approach normal visualization processes in 
proportion as they progress in their cure? and 

Lastly, numerous other minor queries presented them- 

All these questions were answered in the following re- 
search, which after thus much orientation found a more 
complete and final form. 

In order to answer these questions I formulated the 
following series of tests to the number of twenty-four in .all, 
and asked them in series to nineteen stutterers, making al- 
most four hundred tests: 

1. Speech: Say, Today is sunny. 

The dog ran across the street. 
Submarines will sink all the steamers. 

2. Motor: Do you dance? 

Did you ever skate? 
Would you sew for a living? 

3. General Sensory: 

How does a pinch feel? 
Did you ever get hurt? 

Walter B. Swift 225 

What would -you like to do if it was very 
hot next summer? 

4. Hearing: (Eyes closed) 

Do you hear anything? 
Did you ever hear a rooster crow? 
What sounds would you like to hear next 

5. Sight: (Eyes closed) 

What do you see now? 

What did you see yesterday? 

What would you like to see next summer? 

6. Smell: (Eyes closed) (Pen to nose) 

Do you smell anything? 
What have you told by smell? 
What would you like to smell next sum- 

.7. Taste: (Eyes closed) 

Do you taste anything? 

What have you been able to tell by the 

taste ? 
What would you like to taste next 


8. Muscle Sense: (Eyes closed) 

Put one arm up; the other like it. 
Put one arm up, down; the other like it. 
How would you hold a hand to read from 

This long series of questions with careful introspection 
tests upon the content of consciousness constituted then my 
main research in the field of stuttering. Perhaps further 
details in explanation of the questions chosen is unnecessary. 
Three or more questions on introspection were asked at 
each test. 

230 A Psychological Analysis of Stuttering 

4. FINAL DETAILED RESULTS are found in the follow- 
ing conclusions as drawn from. 1440 answers. 

In our average conversation a visual picture is created 
before we begin utterance. Severe stutterers never visualize 
at all. In direct proportion that these cases become less 
severe, does visualization increase in frequency, strength 
and continuation in consciousness before and during utter- 

When severe stutterers are free from spasms they 
visualize, and when they stutter they do not visualize. 

When mild cases are free from spasms, they visualize, 
and when they stutter they fail to visualize. 

In a word, when visualization is present stuttering is 
absent; when visualization is absent stuttering is present. 

This is true not only of each utterance^ in most cases, but 
is true of severe as well as mild forms as a whole. 

Stutterers gain in visualization as they approach cure. 

For past, present and future memories: visualization is 
slightly more frequent for past and future. 

Therefore stuttering is an indication of absent or weak 
visualization either in isolated words, occasional stutterers, 
mild stutterers or the severest type, either before or during 
speech, or both. 

The slump, then, in personality which I showed last year 
as the main thing in stuttering as its cause and condition, is 
thus found by further psychological analysis, to be a slump 
in the power to consciously visualize. 

By personality I mean as mentioned above the com- 
posite of collaborative activities that lie between the low 
sensory repository areas and the low motor expression areas. 
In other words, personality includes all those collaborative 
processes that lie between the sensory intake areas and the 
motor output areas; in a word, any unexpressed use the 
mind makes of its intake. Conscious visualization is a part 
of personality processes, then. In my last year's paper( x ) 
the whole matter was left vague. Here something definite 
and constant is found. In other words the psychoanalytical 
method revealed no conscious subconscious cause. Granted 
there is room here to "interpret" (or create according to 
Freudian mechanisms) a definite subconscious complex, a 

Walter JB. Swift 23 1 

step which I could not feel justified in taking; I leave this 
to better psychoanalysts than I. For me to twist stutter 
phenomena to comply to a theoretical complex is unscientific 
to say the least. But the psychological method as repre- 
sented by this paper shows a definite constant cause for all 
the phenomena of stuttering. 


Upon this basis of an involved visualization all the 
intricate phenomena of stuttering may be explained. Let 
us take some of these up in detail. 

THE START. Visualization processes are a matter of 
growth through exercise and development and use from the 
sensory area mostly of the eye. If these processes in their 
early start and evolution receive a setback through the treat- 
ment of people in the environment, such as interruptions of 
their early speech efforts, constant inattention of those to whom 
they speak, and persistent refusal by older people ,to answer 
questions propounded or the allowing of the little one to ask 
the same question without hopes of answer for a great num- 
ber of times, these visualization processes receive a setback. 
This kind of treatment in the home is one of the chief causes 
of the slump of visualization processes. Another cause is 
hearing other stutterers interrupt their own visualization 
processes as they stutter; and still other minor causes may 
be almost any psychic trauma; these traumata, such as an 
operation, an accident or a severe illness, are sufficient to 
bring to the surface or intensify a growing lack of visualza- 
tion that- has been started by bad environment long before. 

of visualization is lessened, the action upon speech is the 
same as the withdrawal of an inhibiting or regulating reflex 

It is thus that visualization processes act like reflex 
inhibition. When visualization is present a higher inhibition 
arc is functioning and we have a normal speech as a conse- 
quent reflex expression. When and in proportion as visuali- 

232 A Psychological Analysis of Stuttering 

ization is absent this higher inhibition arc is not functioning; 
and the speech thus uncontrolled flies away in spasms which 
we call stutter. It should be called an exaggerated or unin- 
hibited speech reflex. 

The stutter, then, is merely the externalization of an 
exaggerated reflex of motor speech, exaggerated through the 
loss of the inhibitory action of a more or less weakened 
visualization process. 

Not only does this explain the phenomena at large but 
seems to be a satisfactory explanation for all its intricate, 
minute details. Some examples may, perhaps, be welcome 
at this point. I say to two stutterers: "Tell your first 
name." One of them stutters and the other one does not. 
On furthering questioning, it is found that the one who did 
not stutter visualized, and the one who did stutter did not 

CONCRETE: These conditions are also seen when 
stutterers talk about concrete and abstract matters or when 
they promulgate some important plea that cannot be visualiz- 
ed. On concrete matters that can be easily visualized the 
stuttering is gone; and on abstract matters where visualiza- 
tion is hard, the stuttering again appears. 

ANGER: In anger, when an intense visual picture is 
presented and occupies the mind, there is then no stuttering, 
and also in other similar situations there are periods when 
the individual is abandoned to some visual concept which 
acts in the same manner. 

SINGING: We all know that stutterers can sing without 
stuttering. The process here is a similar one; only that there 
is held up over the speech before utterance an auditory image 
of a melody in place of the visual image as held in normal 
speech. This auditory image may be more easily applicable 
as supplying the needed inhibition reflex arc than the visual 
because it is nearer to the speech area. 

PRAYER: For the same reason prayer is uttered without 
stuttering when there is faith enough in a God to hold an 
image of Him during utterance. There may also be other 
images held during prayer. 

FAMILIAR SIGHTS: Familiar sights are less stuttered 
upon than the detailing of situations that are less familiar 

Walter B. Swift 233 

and therefore can be less well visualized. This is also true 
of sights that have been recently seen or that have been 
repeatedly seen, or that in some other way have been made 
intense as pictures in the visual field. 

As CURE PROCEEDS: In the process of recovery where 
visualization is seen to increase as the stutter decreases, 
there is another illustration where this visualization attitude 
explains the whole situation. I have taken a severe stutterer 
and told him a story that could be well pictured, got him to 
work up the pictures properly by several complicated pro- 
cesses (which we will not consider now) and when he had 
them well in hand, I have seen him stand up and relate the 
story from beginning to end with little or no stuttering. 
If at any point he would trip up, the inevitable confession 
would be that at that point he dropped the picture, or, in 
other words, the visualization could not be held over in its 
inhibitory action; and therefore the stutter came. On 
further request to hold it over that point, the same passage 
would be again expressed smoothly if he succeeded in holding 
the picture. 

This constancy, this presence and absence of the picture, 
its presence to make smooth talk and its absence to cause 
stuttering, is so constant at every turn of the situation, that 
I would offer it as a new interpretation of all these phe- 
nomena. I know of no other interpretation that can explain 
everything under one head as does this absence, weakness or 
interruption of visualization processes. 

TERMINOLOGY. We have found in our orientation tests 
that in a vague way the visualization was at fault. We have 
also found in normal individuals that a marked visualization 
was an automatic process that preceded speech, and lasted 
during utterance; and we have found in the long series of 
stutterers that visualization is entirely absent in severe cases; 
that it is weak in milder forms; that it is intermittent in most 
cases, and that on words that are smooth it always appears, 
and in occasional stutter it is as occasionally absent. 

We have also found that the form of visualization com- 
mon in normal speech is the visualization of eye sensations; 
that in unusual situations we may have visualizations from 

234 -^ Psychological Analysis of Stuttering 

other sense areas, such as the ear, taste or smell, but 
these are the rare exception* 

From all this data it would naturally follow that some 
sort of term is needed to designate this condition. Last 
year I probed to find such a term without much success. 

At present I see no reason why it should not be called an 
Asthenia; it is surely the weakening of a mental process that 
is strong in normal individuals. The evidence here presented 
shows that. I doubt whether there is any marked patho- 
logical change, since the individual maybe educated out of it; 
but this does not necessarily follow as proven with my dog 
in Berlin. 2 As a general designation, then, I should consider 
Asthenia as apropos. 

One objection to this is that the weakness is by this 
terminology lacking in localization. Our data above has 
shown us that the location of the trouble is visual; that is, 
it is situated about a centre of sensory registration that de- 
posits data from the eye; this must naturally then be located 
somewhere in or near the cuneus. We could therefore add 
to the terminology this idea of a minute localization and call 
it a Centre Asthenia. 

Some may prefer to carry the matter one step farther 
and add the name of the centre in which this weakness is 
located, but I fear if I take this step and complete my 
terminology by the word " Visual Centre Asthenia," it will, 
as such, not cover quite all the cases, for I find that sometimes 
the visualization is absent in other areas as well, and also 
the holding of an emotion of pleasure or pain and of other 
dominating mental attitudes that are sometimes visualized 
wduld not, therefore, be included. I would therefore retract 
the broader claim in order to place the term on a conserva- 
tive basis and call the essence of the lesion simply no more or 
less than a Centre Asthenia. As well as Visual Asthenia, 
the following terms might be considered as applicable: 
collaborative centre asthenia; imaginative centre asthenia; 
visual creative centre asthenia; picture producing centre 
asthenia. We say neurasthenia when the trouble is not in 
the nerves as such, so much as it is in the collaborative cen- 
tres. More of this later. Here in stuttering the trouble is 
also collaborative, and we can be still more definite than 

Walter JS. Swift 2,35 

that and say the trouble is with the collaboration of visualiza- 
tion. So if I were forced, however, to choose one term from 
all these, my choice would be "'Visual Centre Asthenia." 
This indicates a new and rational treatment. But of this 

SUMMARY: Psychoanalysis reveals stuttering as some 
vague trouble in the personality 1 . Psychological Analysis 
shows stuttering is an absent or weak visualization at the 
time of speech. This new concept of stuttering as faulty 
visualization may be called Visual Centre Asthenia. This 
lack or weakness in visualization accounts for all the numer- 
ous phenomena of stuttering in severe, . medium, or mild 
cases. A new treatment is indicated. 


iSwift: Walter B, A Psychoanalysis of the Stutter Complex with Results of 

aSwift Walter B., demonstration ernes Hundes, dem beide Schafenlappen 
xtirpiert worden Sind. Neurologisches Centralblatt, 1910, no 13. 



Corresponding Member NeuroL and PsychoL Societies of Paris, 
etc* Neurologist to Freedmen' '_r Hospital and Epiphany 
Dispensary^ Lecturer on Nervous and Mental Dis- 
eases^ Howard University , Washington, D. C. 


is a general impression that the explanations 
of natural phenomena, including human destinies, 
to which the term superstitious is given are usually 
attributable to the vestiges of traditional cosmogo- 
nies of our tribal ancestors handed down to children at 
the knees of their parents or guardians. This explanation 
however, is only true of a portion of the beliefs which we 
call superstitions. The demand for superstitious explana- 
tions depends upon psychophysiological tendencies of the 
human organism, the root of which is comprised in the affect 
which we call craving. This theorem I have tried to develop 
as follows : 

Craving is a sign of physiological need. It is a sensory 
phenomenon, of which, however, explicit awareness cannot 
always be discovered. It is conspicuously noticed in cases 
of disturbance of the body secretions, such as occurs in over- 
function of the thyroid gland. It is regarded as a crude 
body-consciousness that something is the matter. In 
motorial organisms it causes visible reaction: this expresses 
itself in what is termed restlessness. But the unrest may 
show itself by a fixation more particularly in the muscles of 
emoti'onal expression, although the -manifestation is not 
confined to these; shallow respirations -and restricted ampli- 

*Read at the yth Annual Meeting of the American Psychopathological 
Association, New York, May, 1915. 


Tom A. Williams 237 

tude of movement in limbs and trunk may be observed also. 
In cerebrate animals the reaction of the individual is under 
the guidance of preceding impressions stored in the pallium 
and known as memories; whereas in the animals without a 
pallium all reaction is accomplished through stable mechan- 
isms known as instincts. Both of these types of reaction 
are tropisms merely; but the former are labile, conditionable; 
whereas the latter cannot be modified. The science of 
conditionable reactions of cerebrate animals is called 
psychology, and the means by which the reactions are in- 
fluenced are called psychogenetic, whether these are healthy 
or diseased. It must not be forgotten, however, that the 
genesis of a psychological disturbance may be purely soma- 
tic, although the manner in which the reaction shows itself 
is contingent mainly upon the features of the individual 
which have been derived from previous sensory impressions 
and their resultant motor reactions commonly known as 
experience. It is the influence of these upon the hereditary 
dispositions of the individual which constitute what is 
known as " make-up" or character; and it is this which de- 
termines the form which reaction to stimulus must take, 
whether the stimulus is purely psychological or somatic. 
Now physiological discomfort is an experience universal 
at one time of life or another; but the reaction to it is infinite 
in variety; and while part of it depends upon the congenital 
dispositions which are the common property of humanity, a 
larger part is contingent upon the psychogenetic factors 
which have stamped the individual. 


Now an influence which has been of great significance 
to every human being since the traditional period, at least, 
has been the concept of the universe regnant at the period 
of that individual's life. The insistence by its protagonists 
upon this concept as the ultimate motive of human endeavour 
made its acceptance almost universal at periods when it was 
the custom to lean upon the dicta of authority for guidance 
in life even when blind obedience was not the rule. Now in 
natural affairs, inconvenient questionings and scepticisms 

238 The Origin of Siipernatural Explanations 

towards dogmatisms would ultimately reach truth. But as 
inaccessibleness to verification of what was called super- 
natural made authority, rather than investigation, its cri- 
terion, excommunication from the tribe would still all 
criticism.* Thus every act of life became permeated by 
motives, originated in arbitrary interpretations of a super- 

These influences were specially conspicuous concerning 
the difficulties of man's almost blind struggle against the 
uncomprehended astronomical and geodetic phenomena 
marvelled at and fled from, as well as the pestilences which 
ravaged him. In his sociological affairs too, every act or 
thought became embued with relationship to an extraneous 

It is by these social and physical phenomena that the 
greatest appeal is made to the states of feeling termed emo- 
tions and sentiments. So that it became the custom to 
invoke, concerning ill states of feeling, the reference to a 
supernatural influence. Thus, from the cradle up, the 
ordering of social relationships was made dependent upon the 
simple expedient of the supernatural extraneous agent, 
rather than upon the more difficult and elaborate analysis 
and synthesis which would have been required for a proper 
investigation of each perturbing circumstance in its relation 
to life as a whole. The power of this influence was in- 
versely proportional to the resiliency and tenacity as well 
as the general well-being of the individual. 

But not only is reference to the supernatural favoured 
by traditional cosmogony, but because of certain psycho- 
logical features of the individual himself there is a tendency 
towards supernatural explanations of the introspective 
observations. The Occasions of introspection of this kind 
are two, and I am not speaking of the inculcated introspec- 
tion of \the moralists. One of these Occasions is the self- 
examination into his conduct which is a normal character 
of a thinking being. This may give rise to supernatural 
explanations even when the introspection is not determined 
by the tradition, of which I have already spoken. 

*A dramatic study of this occurrence is presented by Grant Allen in "The 
Story of Why-Why" in his book "The Wrong Paradise." 

Tom A. Williams 239 

The second kind of Occasion demanding introspection, 
is the autochthonous emanation of feeling of unaccustomed 
character. Such feelings occur at the physiological epochs; 
but at these times they are readily explained in a familiar 
and simple way, and hence no supernatural agency is usually 
invoked. A similar explanation is made readily enough in 
cases of evident bodily disease, even where mental symp- 
toms are prominent, for it is no longer the custom to speak 
of demon-possession even in the acute deliria. But even 
where no physiological epoch or clearly defined physical 
disease stands forth, unusual feelings are no uncommon 
phenomenon, and they demand explanation. Such occur 
conspicuously in the psychopathological syndrome so com- 
pletely described by Janet under the term psychasthenia. 
Persons thus afflicted feeling an incapacity and an impedi- 
ment to their free activity and not recognizing that they are 
sick, endeavour to interpret their feelings. Of course, the 
interpretation varies somewhat in accordance with the nature 
of the feelings, and with the person's information about the 
world and his psyche. But quite apart from modifications 
of this type, I have found it very common for patients to 
declare "I feel as if there was another person in me," or 
**I feel compelled as if by another agency to act thus." 
The explanation of a supernatural agent weighing upon 
them becomes very easy. For the purpose of this discussion, 
it is not important whether psychasthenia arises purely 
from degeneration of structure, or from faults in the chemis- 
try of the plasma which bathes the nerve structures, or 
whether it is a purely psychopathological condition to which 
the physical phenomena are secondary, as some would have 
us believe. Our object is merely the setting forth of the 
fact that it is a diseased condition which disposes its victim 
towards metaphysical explanations. 

It is a sort of uneasiness which prevents comfort in the 
feelings of certainty, in the operations of the intellect and 
decision of action. The patient finding himself abulic, 
and perhaps too critical minded to accept the mundane 
supports in his vicinity, seeks a solace in that which to him 
seems powerful because incomprehensible, that is tos ay in 
something supernatural. 

240 The Origin of Super nat^lral Explanations 

For this, it is not essential that the victim's mind be 
pervaded by the infantine cosmogony which parades often as 
religious truth. Without anything of the sort, there may 
arise nai've interpretations, hardly even having explicit 
reference to supernatural agents. For example, a patient 
may say "If I begin on Friday, a certain undertaking will 
fail," cc lf I do not turn my vest twice, misfortune will 
occur," "It is incumbent upon me to turn round in my chair, 
or the negotiations will fail." The enumeration of expedi- 
ents would be useless. The above are from three different 
patients, one a boy of fourteen now completely cured; the 
second from the son of a prominent public man now 
quite restored to health; the third from a case still under 
care. In none of these was the bodily state of importance, 
the psychological reactions were the sole object of thera- 
peutic effort, and their ordination was accomplished by 
purely psychological means. 



Pathologist, State Board of Insanity, Massachusetts; Director, 
Psychopathic Hospital, Boston, Mass., and B^dlard Pro- 
fessor of Neuropathology, Harvard Medical School, 

Boston, Mass. 


Previous work on somatic delusions. 

Suggestion that allopsychic delusions are as a rule in 
some sense autopsychic. 

A genetic hint from general paresis (frontal site of 
lesions in cases with autopsychic trend.) 

Mental symptomatology of general paresis- 
Work on fifth-decade psychoses. 

Statistical summary. 

Group with pleasant (or not unpleasant) delusions. 

Three cases of senile dementia, delusions of grand- 
eur, and frontal lobe changes. 

Three cases with religious delusions. 

Remainder of pleasant-delusion group. 

Group with unpleasant delusions. 

Nephrogenic (?) group. 

^Presented in abstract at the Sixth Annual Meeting of the American Psycho- 
pathological Association, held in New York City, May 5, 1915. Being Contribu- 
tions of the State Board of Insanity, Whole Number 47 (1915. 13). The material 
was derived from the Pathological Laboratory of the Danvers State Hospital, 
Hathorne, Massachusetts, and the clinical notes were collected by Dr. A. Warren 
Stearns, to whom I wish to express my indebtedness but to whom ^no one should 
ascribe the somewhat speculative character of the present conclusions. (Biblio- 
graphical Note. The previous contribution was State Board of Insanity Contri- 
bution, Whole Number 46 (1915.12) by D. A. Thorn and E. E. Southard entitled 
"An Anatomical Search for Idiopathic Epilepsy: Being a First Note on Idiopathic 
Epilepsy at Monson State Hospital, Massachusetts," accepted by Review of 
Neurology and Psychiatry, 1915.) 


242 Data Concerning Delusions of Personality 


suggestions here put forward concerning personal 
(autopsychic) delusions are based on material of the 
same sort as that previously analyzed for a study 
of somatic and of environmental (allopsychic) de- 
lusions. Our conclusions are also influenced by two analyses 
of the types of delusion found in general paresis. Moreover, 
at a period subsequent to the analysis presented here, some 
work on fifth-decade insanities had been completed, and the 
delusional features constantly found in the functional cases 
of insanity developing at the climacteric, entered to modify 
our general point of view. 

The situation may be summed up as follows: 

The accessibility to analysis of the clinical and anatom- 
ical data at the Danvers State Hospital was such as to prompt 
the use of its card catalogues for statistical work upon de- 
lusions. The more so, because in a period of enthusiasm 
over the Wernickean trilogy (autopsyche, allopsyche, 
somatopsyche) of conscious phenomena, the Danvers cata- 
logue had attempted to divide the delusions recorded into 
the three Wernickean groups. Putting these clinical data 
side by side with the anatomical data, we were speedily able 
to single out those cases with normal or normal-looking 
brains and thus to secure a group approximately composed 
of functional cases of insanity. 

It shortly developed, as to the content of delusions, that 
somatic delusions were exceedingly prone to parallel the 
conditions found in the trunk-viscera and other non-nervous 
tissues of the subjects at autopsy. 1 A subsequent study has 
confirmed this conclusion for the distressing hypochondriacal 
delusions found in climacteric insanities, which delusions, 
however distressing, are often far less so than the true con- 
ditions found at autopsy. And it may be generally stated 
that the clinician can get very valuable points concerning 
the somatic interiors of his patients by reasoning back from 
the contents of their somatic delusions. 

But how far can we, as psychiatrists, reason back from 
the contents of environmental delusions, e. g. those of 
persecution, to the actual conditions of a given patient's 

E. E. Southard 243 

environment? In a few cases it seemed that something 
like a close correlation did exist between such allopsychci 
delusions and the conditions which had surrounded the 
patient the delusory fears of insane merchants ran on 
commercial ruin, and certain women dealt in their delusions 
largely with domestic debacles. But on the whole, we could 
not say that, as the somatic delusions seemed to grow out of 
and somewhat fairly represent the conditions of the soma, 
so the environmental delusions would appear to grow out of 
or fairly represent the environment. 

Thus, however brilliant an idea was Wernicke's in 
constructing the allopsyche (or, as it were, social and envi- 
ronmental side of the mind) for the purpose of classification, 
our own analysis promised to show that for genetic purposes 
the allopsyche was much less valuable. These delusions 
having a social content pointed far more often inwards at 
the personality of the patient than outwards at the condi- 
tions of the world. And case after case, having apparently 
an almost pure display of environmental delusions, turned 
out to possess most obvious defects of intellect or of tempera- 
ment which would forbid their owners to react properly 
to the most favourable of environments. Hence, we believe, 
it may be generally stated that the clinician is far less likely 
to get valuable points as to the social exteriors of his patients 
from the contents of their social delusions than he proved to 
be able to get when reasoning from somatic delusions to 
somatic interiors. Put briefly, the deluded patient is more 
apt to divine correctly the diseases of his body than his 
devilments by society. 

Our statistical analysis, therefore, set us drifting toward 
disorder of personality as the source of many delusions 
apparently derived ab extra and tended to swell the group 
of autopsychic cases at the expense of the allopsychic group, 

In the statistical analysis of a group of cases correspond- 
ing roughly with the so-called functional group of diseases. 
we find false beliefs about the soma on a somewhat different 
plane from those about the patient's self and his worldly 
fortunes. We can even discern through the ruins of the 
paretic's reaction that his false beliefs concerning the body 
are often not so false after all, and that his damaged brain 

244 Data Concerning Delusions of Personality 

of itself is not so apt to return false ideas about his somatic 
interior as about his worldly importance and plight. There 
then seems to be more reality about somatic than about 
personal delusions: the contents of somatic delusions are 
rather more apt to correspond with demonstrable realities 
than the contents of personal delusions. Accordingly oui 
analysis of delusional contents includes a hint also as tc 
genesis. Taken naively, the facts suggest a somatic genesis 
for somatic delusions exactly in proportion as these delusions 
are not so much false beliefs as partially true ones. 

What genetic hint have we for the delusions concerning 
personality? One genetic hint was obtained from a correla- 
tion of delusions with lesions in general paresis, 2 in which 
disease perhaps the most profound and disastrous of al] 
alterations of personality are found. Amidst the othei 
alterations of personality found in paresis, autopsychic 
delusions are characteristic: indeed allopsychic delusions are 
conspicuously few in our series. And, as above, the somatic 
delusions, fewer in number, can be fairly easily correlated 
with somatic lesions, or else with lesions of the receptoi 
apparatus (thalamus) of the brain. 

Now it was precisely the cases with autopsychic delu- 
sions, as well as with profound disorder of personality in 
general, that showed the brunt of the destructive paretic 
process in the frontal region. The other not-so-autopsychic 
cases did not show this frontal brunt, but were less markedly 
diseased at death and had a more diffuse process. 

Our genetic hint from paresis, therefore, inclines us tc 
the conception that this disorder of the believing process is 
more frontal than parietal, more of the anterior associatior 
area than of the posterior association area of the brain, 
And if we can trust our intuitions so far, the perverted 
believing process is thus more a motor than a sensory process, 
more a disorder of expression than a disorder of impression, 
more a perversion of the will to believe than a matter of the 
rationality of a particular credo. 

Again we may appear to burst through from an under- 
growth of statistics into the clear field of truism. Fals 
beliefs are more practical than theoretical, more a matter o: 
practical conduct than of passive experience, more a change 

E~ E. Southard 

of reagent than a reaction to change. The man on the street 
or even many a leading neurologist would perhaps accept 
this formula as his own. 

Certainly in general the least satisfactory of these 
chapters on the nature of delusions was the chapter on 
environmental effects, 3 and this perhaps because the results 
seemed so nearly negative. 

A further contribution to delusions of environmental 
nature was somewhat unexpectedly derived from a piece of 
work on the general mental symptomatology of general 
paresis. 4 Dichotomizing the paretics (all autopsied cases) 
into a group with substantial, i. e., encephalitic, atrophic or 
sclerotic lesions of the cortex and a group without such gross 
lesions or else with merely a leptomeningitis, I found the 
'latter (or anatomically mild) group to be characterized by a 
set of symptoms which were all "contra-environmental," 
whereas the former (or anatomically severe) did not thus run 
counter to the environment. The conclusions of that 
paper, so far as they concern us now, are as follows: 

The "mild" cases showed a group of symptoms which 
might be termed contra-environmental, viz. allopsychic 
delusions, sicchasia (refusal of food), resistiveness, violence, 

The "severe" cases showed a group of symptoms of a 
quite different order, affecting personality either to a ruin 
of its mechanisms in confusion and incoherence, or to mental 
quietus involved in euphoria, exaltation, or expansiveness. 

The most positive results of this orienting study appear 
to be the unlikelihood of euphoria and allied symptoms in 
the "mild" or non-atrophic cases and the - unlikelihood of 
certain symptoms, here termed contra-environmental, in the 
severe or atrophic cases. Perhaps these statistical facts 
may lay a foundation for a study of the pathogenesis of these 
symptoms. Meantime the pathogenesis of such symptoms 
as amnesia and dementia cannot be said to be nearer a struc- 
tural resolution, as these symptoms appear to be approx- 
imately as common in the "mild" as in the "severe" groups. 

But in both papers dealing with paresis 2 ' 4 we rest 
under the suspicion that the delusions are possibly of cerebral 

246 Data Concerning Delusions of Personality 

manufacture. Of course, a lesion somewhere outside the 
brain is not unlikely to be projected through the diseased 
brain, and somatic delusions in the paretic are rather likely 
to represent something in the viscera. 

It was desirable to get back to normal-brain material, 
to learn how the intrinsically normal brain 5 could perhaps 
produce delusions from a particular environment. Could a 
particularly "bad" environment actually produce delusions? 

By chance, at about this stage in our studies of delusions, 
some work on fifth-decade insanities 6 was completed. This 
work seemed to show that the most characteristic (non- 
coarsely-organic) cases of involutional origin were much 
given to delusions (each of 24 cases studied), somewhat more 
so than to the hypochondria and melancholia which we 
commonly ascribe to the involution period. But this result 
is equivocal as to the environmental (L e. allopsychogenic) 
power to produce delusions, since one could not rid oneself 
of the suspicion that the delusions were due to the degenerat- 
ing brain. 

To return to our former results with the normal-looking 

Case after case of the quasi-environmental group proved 
to be more essentially personal than environmental, until 
at last it almost seemed that the environment could seldom 
be blamed for any important share in the process of false 
belief. In short, we seemed to show that environment is 
seldom responsible for the delusions of the insane. 

Be that as it may, we secured several lines of attack 
on the delusion* of personality by our study of quasi-environ- 
mental delusions. JF'Irst, we were irresistibly leu to a con- 
sideration of the emotional (pleasant or unpleasant) charac- 
ter of the delusions. We heaped up a large number of un- 
pleasant delusions in that (quasi-environmental, but actual- 
ly) personal group. It is interesting to inquire, accordingly, 
whether our more obviously autopsychic cases will also be 
possessed of an unpleasant tone. Secondly, we came upon 
the curious fact that cardiac and various subdiaphragmatic 
diseases were correlated with unpleasant emotion as express- 
ed in the delusions. It was therefore important 'to inquire 
whether similar conditions prevailed in the new group. 

E. E. Southard 247 

Thirdly, we found ourselves inquiring "whether our patients 
were victims of what might be termed a spreading inwards 
of the delusions (egocentripetal) or a spreading outwards 
thereof (egocentrifugal delusions). But this difference in 
trend, clear as it often is from the patient's point of view,, 
remains to be defined from the outsider's point of view. 

Again, it remains to determine, if possible, how far 
delusions are dominated respectively by the intellect or the 
emotions, or even by the volitions. 

As before, I begin with a brief statistical analysis. 


Danvers autopsy series, unselected cases loco 

Cases with little or no gross brain disease 306 

Cases listed as having autopsychic delusions 106 

Cases listed as having only autopsychic delusions 50 

Cases for various reasons improperly classified 13 
Cases of general paresis in which gross brain lesions were 

not observed 15 

Residue of autopsychic cases 22 

The group of 22 cases thus sifted out can be studied 
from many points of view. We may recall that our former 
study of allopsychic delusions proved that a large proportion 
of delusions concerning the environment were in all probabil- 
ity not essentially derived from the environment* Their 
contents might relate to the environment, but their genesis 
could better be regarded as autopsychic (intrapersonal). 
In fact we really found only 6 out of 58 cases of pure allopsy- 
chic delusions, which could be safely taken as showing so 
much coincidence between anamnesis and delusions that a 
correlation could be risked. 

Following the method of our former work on somatic 
and on environmental delusions, we sought in the first 
instance pure cases of autopsychic delusion-information. 
For a variety of reasons, more than half of the original list, 
namely,' 28 cases, had to be exqluded. Many of these 
exclusions were due to the strong suspicion that the cases 
were really cases of general paresis, despite the normality 

248 Data Concerning Delusions of Personality 

of the brains in the gross. The residue of 22 cases include, 
we are confident, no instance of exudative disease of the syphi- 
litic group, though general syphilization cannot safely be 
ruled out in all cases. 

There are two groups of cases, a group of eleven cases 
with delusions of a generally pleasant or not unpleasant 
character (in which group there is a small sub-group of three 
cases of octogenarians with expansive delusions reminding 
one of those of general paresis) and a group of eleven cases 
with delusions of an unpleasant character. 


The ti*ue emotional nature of the beliefs placed in this group 
cannot fairly be stated to be pleasurable. But, if not pleasurable, 
they may perhaps be stated to be complacent, expansive, or of 
air-castle type. The criteria of their choice have been largely 
negative: the patients are not recorded as expressing beliefs of a 
painful or displeasing character: in the absence of which we may 
suppose the beliefs to be either indifferent or actually pleasing in 

Of the 1 1 cases whose delusions were supposedly of an agreeable 
nature or at least predominantly not unpleasant, there were 3 
with delusions reminding one of general paresis. The ages of these 
three were 80, 84, and 87 respectively. They did not show any 
pathognomonic sign (e.g. plasma cells) of general paresis. They 
all showed in common very marked lesions' of the cortex, including 
the frontal regions (in two instances the extent of the frontal 
lesions was presaged by focal overlying pial changes) .999 was a 
case of pseudoleukemia with marked cortical devastation ,but 
without brain foci of lymphoid cells. Two of the cases showed 
cell-losses more marked in suprastellate layers; in the third there 
was universal nerve cell destruction, with active satellitosis caught 
in process. 

Condensed notes concerning the cases with pseudo- 
paretic delusions follow. Two of them, it will be noticed, 
yielded some delusions also of an unpleasant nature. 

CASE i. (D. S. H. 10940, Path. 999) was a clever business 

man, Civil War veteran, who began to lose ground at 75 and died 

' at 84. He was given during his disease to boasting and perpetual 

writing about elaborate real estate schemes and said he owned a 

$100,000 concern for the purpose. 

The case was clinically unusual in that the picture of a pseudo- 
leukemia was presented, with demonstration at autopsy of great 

E. E. Southard 249 

hyperplasia of retroperitoneal lymph nodes and grossly visible 
islands of lymphoid hyperplasia in liver and spleen. The brain 
weighed 1390 grams and showed little or no gross lesion, if we 
except a -pigmentation of the right prefrontal region under an area of 
old pias hemorrhage. There was also a chronic leptomeningitis, 
with numerous streaks and flecks along the sulci, especially in' 
the frontal region. There was little or no sclerosis visible in the 
secondary arterial branches and but few patches in the larger 
arteries. Microscopically die cortex proved to be far from normal: 
every area examined showed cell-loss, perhaps more markedly 
in the suprastellate layers than below. 

CASE 2. (D. S. H. 11980, Path. 1024) was a Civil War 
veteran who failed in the grocery business, was alcoholic, was 
finally reduced to keeping a boarding-house and grew gradually 
queer. Mental symptoms of a pronounced character are said to 
have begun at 75. Death at 80. Delusions reminded one of 

feneral paresis: worth $5,000,000 a month, 108 years old, was to 
uild a church: also, a woman was trying to poison him. 

Autopsy showed caseous nodules in lung, coronary and general- 
ized arteriosclerosis (including moderate basal cerebral}, mitral and 
aortic stenosis (the aortic valve also calcified). The frontal pia 
mater was greatly thickened and, although no gross lesions were 
noted in the cortex, the microscope brings out marked lesions in 
the shape of cell losses (especially in suprastellate layers) in all 
areas examined. There were no plasma cells in any area examined. 

CASE 3. (D. S. H. 12767, Path. 1185) was a widowed Irish 
woman, who died at 87. Previous history blank. Extravagant 
delusions of wealth were associated with &fear of being killed-. 

The autopsy showed little save chronic myocarditis with brown 
atrophy, calcification of part of thyroid, non-united fracture of 
neck of left femur, moderate coronary arteriosclerosis. The brain 
was abnormally soft (some of the larger intracortical vessels showed 

Slugs of leucocytes possibly indicating an early encephalitis 
acillus coli and a Gram-staining bacillus were cultivated from the 
cerebrospinal fluid.) Though the convolutions were neither 
flattened nor atrophied and absolutely no lesion was grossly visible, 
the cortex cerebri and also the cerebellum were found undergoing 
an active satellitosis with nerve-cell destruction in all areas ex- 

The following three cases (IV, V, VI) present a certain 
identity from their delusions concerning messages from God 
(V thought he was God). It is very doubtful whether VI 
should be placed in the present group of Pleasant or Not 
Unpleasant Delusions, since the patient appears to have 
been "theomaniacal" as the French say, in a rather passive 
and unpleasant manner (God occasioned foolish actions!) 

250 Data Concerning Delusions of Personality 

Placed on general statistical grounds at first in the Not 
Unpleasant group. Case VI should be transferred to the 
Unpleasant group. Case V's delusion (identification with 
God; expression of atonement?) was in any event episodic 
in a septicemia. Case IV ("happiest woman in the world ") ? 
was phthisical (cf. VII) Notes follow: 
10 pt here. 

CASE 4. (D. S. H. 4019, Path 218) Housewife, 37 years 
always cheerful, became the happiest woman in the world? hearing 
God's voice and being specially under God's direction. "Acute 
mania." Death from bilateral phthisis with numerous cavities 
and bilateral pleuritis. There were no other lesions except a 
small sacral bed-sore., a small fibromyoma of the uterine fundus, 
small slightly cystic ovaries, a slight dural thickening, and possibly 
a slight general cerebral atrophy, (wt. app. 1205 grams, marked 

CASE V. (D. S. H. 11742., Path. 852) was a victim of strepto- 
coccus septicemia (three weeks) who said he was God. Patient 
was a Protestant iron-worker of 59 years, who had lost an eye and 
had become unable to work about three months before death. 
Aortic, cardiac, renal lesions at autopsy. Prostatic hypertrophy. 
Dr. A. M. Barrett found few changes in nerve cells, except fever 
changes. One area in left superior frontal gyms showed superficial 

CASE VI. (D. S. H. 5345, Path. 867) was a "primary delusional 
insanity," a salesman of 37 years, whose beliefs concerned im- 
pressions direct from God, in consequence of which he habitually 
knelt and prayed. Yet many of the actions which he felt he 
must perform were foolish actions. The patient died of pneumococ- 
cus septicemia during a lobar pneumonia. The brain showed a few 
changes suggestive of fever (A. M. Barrett). There were a few 
flecks of atheroma in the aorta. There was an acute parenchymatous 
nephritis with focal plasma cell infiltrations suggesting acute 
interstitial nephritis. This case appears to have shown one of 
the most nearly normal brains in the whole Danvers series. 

The remainder of the Pleasant or Not Unpleasant Group 
as originally constituted consists of VII, ,a phthisical case 
(cf. IV); VIII,, probably feeble-minded romancer, not de- 
luded in the sense of self-deception (probably best excluded 
from present consideration); IX, probably not safely to be 
assigned to the Pleasant or Not Unpleasant Group, feeling 
passive in somewhat the same sense as Case VI (see above), 
suffering from auditory hallucinosis (superior temporal 
atellitosis, data of the late W. L. Worcester); X, delusion 

E. E* Southard 251 

of birth to superior station, possibly the object of mixed 
emotions, probably not pleasant; and XI, manic-depressive 
exaltation with grandiose utterances, long prior to death 
(if there had been lung tuberculosis at the basis oftheileac 
ulcers, it had long since healed). 

Notes follow (VII-XI) and at the end a brief summary 
of the entire group (I-XI). 

CASE 7. (D. S. H. 8878, Path. 521) It is questionable 
whether the delusions classified in this case entitle it to inclusion 
in the present study, e.g. "7 was baptized in the Catholic Church 
(patient a Protestant housewife) with holy water ^ inky and Florida 
water." Patient was variously designated, as "dementia" and as 
"acute confusional insanity." Death in second attack at 26 (first 
attack at 22). Father also insane. Death due to bilateral phthisis 
with tuberculosis of intestines and mesenteric glands, emaciation. It 
is noteworthy that the brain weighed but 1038 grams. Dr. W. L. 
Worcester's microscopic examination showed acute nerve cell 
changes probably of the type of axonal reactions. 

CASE 8. (D. S. H. 8807, Path. 556) very probably a feeble- 
minded subject. At all events patient had done no work in his 
life, had been given to spells of restlessness and excitement, and 
had talked disconnectedly. Symptoms were thought to have 
dated from the tenth year. It is questionable whether a statement 
that he "was managing the Electric Railway and Shipbuilding 
Company can be regarded as delusional, that is, as believed by the 
patient. Death was due to (perhaps septicemia from one abscess 
of jaw and to hypostatic penumonia), the brain appeared normal, 
but Dr. W. L. Worcester found, besides certain acute changes, also 
satellitosis. The question remains open whether the case should 
be regarded as defective or as belonging to the dementia praecox 

CASE 9. (D. S. H. 8605, Path. 568) had an ill-defined attack 
of mental disease and was in D. S. H. at 29. Thereafter, lived in 
Gloucester Almshouse, but at 51 became excited and was returned 
to D. S. H. where she died at 59. Possibly hallucinated: someone 
called her mother (single woman). Delusion: the spirit is here 
(Protestant). Patient was given to a stream of muttered, vulgar 
and incoherent talk. Possibly the case was residual from he- 
bephrenia. Dr. W. L. Worcester found cell changes in the superior 
temporal gyri (finely granular stainable substance in practically 
all nerve cells) and not elsewhere. The correlation is suggestive 
with the probably auditory hallucinosis. The brain weighed 
1190 grams. Death due to bronchopneumonia. Heart and 
kidneys normal. 

CASE 10. (D. S. H. 10145, Path. 928) a Danish fisherman, 
possibly manic-depressive, victim of three attacks at 40, 50, and 

252 Data Concerning Delusions of Personality 

69 years. The first attack followed loss of wife, and delusions 
concerning being born again developed. The last attack showed 
few well-defined delusions, as patient was in a bewildered and in- 
coherent state. One statement is characteristic: if patient had 
remained in Denmark, he might have inherited the throne. The 
autopsy showed most extensive arteriosclerosis, including basal 
cerebral. Death from general anasarca and jaundice, (cholelithia- 
sis). There was some question of an acute encephalitic lesion in 
the tissues lining the posterior half of the third ventricle. Various 
chronic lesions (splenitis, endocarditis, difluse nephritis}, malnutri- 

CASE ii. (D. S. H. 7767, Path. 792) was a case possibly 
of manic-depressive type (previous attacks Hartford Retreat and 
Danvers State Hospital) who worked as machinist between attacks 
and died at 70, having been in D. S. H. 8 years. Patient was 
greatly emaciated and anemic from chronic ulcers of ileum. There 
was also cholelithiasis. There was a mild coronary atheroma and 
slight mitral valve edge thickening. 

The delusions expressed were those of great wealth. Patient 
also thought he was a great poet. No brain changes were found 
(A. M. Barrett). 

Having attempted on the basis of certain statistical 
tags to constitute a group of cases having relatively normal 
brains and pleasant (or not unpleasant) delusions, we are 
forced to reconstruct our group upon viewing Several cases 
more attentively. 

Case VIII should be excluded as probably not delusional. 

Case X might perhaps be transferred with propriety 
to the unpleasant-delusion group. 

Certain cases of felt passivity under divine influence 
separate themselves out from the group; indeed VI and IX 
probably belong in the unpleasant-delusion group (see below). 

These subtractions leave seven cases to deal with. 
Three of t these seven, viz. I, II and III, are apparently best 
regarded as examples of frontal lobe atrophy, and their 
grandiosity may resemble that of certain cases of general 

Of the remaining four, two, Cases IV -and VII, are 
phthisical; one, Case VI, showed an episodic identification 
with God (incident in fatal septicemia), and one, Case XI, 
uttered manic-depressive exalted statements about wealth 
and Doetical power. 

E. E. Southard 253 

I turn to a consideration of the unpleasant-delusion 
group, which as first constituted was to contain eleven cases 
(XII-XXII) but to which must be added three more (VI, 
IX, X). 

Case XII should be at -once excluded from present con- 
sideration on account of its microscopy. 

CASE 12. (D. S. H. 12282, Path. 942) died in a second attack 
of depression (manic-depressive insanity?). Catholic, always of a 
quiet and reserved disposition, happy in married life. Delusional 
attitude concerning an abortion which she said she had induced. 
"Soullost," "I'll see hell." 

_ Autopsy: Death from gangrene of king and acute fibrinous 
pericarditis. Erosion of cervix uteri. The edema of the brain, 
irregular pink mottlings of white substance^ and an exudative lesion 
of one fbcus in the pia mater of the right side suggested an encepha- 
litis more marked on the right side. Microscopically a few small 
vessels showed plugs of polynuclear lencocytes. The nerve cells 
were affected by various acute changes. The visuo-psychic por- 
tion of an occipital section (right) showed suprastellate cell-losses 
of a somewhat focal character. 

Of the remaining ten XIII-XXII), one. Case XIII is 
another of mixed emotions ("am Eve and have to suffer;" 
"in Purgatory;" etc) of a religious type. It is the only 
case in the unpleasant group with phthisis pulmonalis, 
(combined, however, with abdominal tuberculosis ^nd 

CASE 13. (D. S. H. 7361, Path. 499) was a somewhat defective 
Catholic woman (mother insane) always of a melancholy and 
reserved temperament. She had been ill-treated by husband, 
child had died, another had followed soon. She developed a 
belief that she was Eve and had to suffer. At hospital decided that 
she was in purgatory and expressed a variety of other religious 
beliefs. She also thought she was ill-treated at hospital. Her head 
was asymmetrical: skull thick and eburnated. Brain (1130 grams 
described as normal). Chronic interstitial nephritis. Pulmonary 
and mesenteric tuberculosis. 

Of the remaining nine (XIV-XXII) all had grossly 
evident kidney lesions except two (XIV and XV). Of these 
two, XIV probably had renal arteriosclerosis and was in 
any case very gravely arteriosclerotic in general and suffered 
from cystitis. Case XV died apparently of starvation with 

254 Data Concerning Delusions of Personality 

hepatic atrophy; it is a question whether "poverty" was or 
was not a delusion. Notes of XIV and XV follow: 

CASE 14. (D. S. H. 8741, Path. 500) was a German teacher^ 
college-bred, of a reserved and melancholy turn of mind (mothe 
insane). An attack at 39, another at 70. "Both poor wife and 
son will starve. " "Perhaps they should be put out of reach of pover- 
ty , " later felt he " had caused death of wife and son on account of his 
expensive living." Autopsy: chronic internal hydrocephalus, cere- 
bral arteriosclerosis. Brain weight 1 1 80 grams. Coronary sclerosis 
with calcification throughout, aortic and pulmonary valvular calcifica- 
tion hypertrophy of heart. Cystitis. 

CASE 15. (D. S. H. 4454, Path. 237) was presumably a 
manic-depressive case, had in all four attacks, and died in the 
fourth attack (66 years). The day he arrived at the hospital, 
having not eaten for several days at the end of several months of 
delusions of poverty the case was called "acute melancholia/ 
and the cause of death assigned was starvation. The liver weighed 
1102 grams and was fatty. There was a diffuse thickening and 
clouding of the pia mater^ and the dura was firmly adherent every- 
where to the skull. 

Notes follow of seven cases (XVII-XXII) which show 
many lesions, are in a number of instances cardiorenal and 
in all instances renal. If it is permitted to count XIV also 
as renal, a list of eight cases out of the original list of eleven 
unpleasant-delusion cases is obtained in which nephritis 
of <some type has been found. Case XIII, nephritis and 
phthisis, belongs also in the renal group. 

CASE 16. (D. S. H. 4168, Path. 226) feared death and 
refused food on the ground that she should not eat. Patient had 
always been of a despondent and reserved nature (sister also insane) 
and, after her husband's death, when she was 53, grew unable to 
carry on her house, dwelt constantly on griefs, entered hospital at 
61, and died at 64 ("chronic melancholia"). Death from internal 
hemorrhagic pachymeningitis. The liver of this case weighed 
1074 grams and was fatty. There was chronic interstitial nephritis. 

CASE 17. (D. S. H. 4707, Path. 498) originally cheerful and 
frank, lost her situation as companion, grew despondent at failure 
to get employment, had a "hysterical" attack at 52. It is doubt- 
ful whether her beliefs were delusional: "can never be better ^ 
" will not be taken care of," "no place for her." "Subacute melan- 
cholia." The autopsy showed gastric dilation (over 3000 cc.), 
and an atrophic liver and pancreas^ and slightly contracted kidneys. 
The heart was normal. Death from ileocolitis. Moderate chronic 
internal hydrocephalus. Dr. W. L. Worcester's microscopic exam- 

E. E. Southard 255 

Ination showed rather unusual degrees of nerve cell pigmentation 
(precentral and paracentral). 

CASE 18. (D. S. H. 8898, Path. 570) was an unmarried 
daughter of a fire insurance company president. Both her mother 
and she developed mental disease after the company failed (Boston 
and Chicago fires). Both mother and father died, and patient 
was in several hospitals after 36, obscene, denudative, onanist. 
Delusions concerning crimes committed, Satyriasis. Could hear 
fire kindled to burn her. Diagnosis, "secondary dementia." 

Death at 54 from bilateral broncho-pneumonia* Atrophic 
uterus. Cystic right ovary with twisted pedicle: atrophic left ovary: 
contracted kidneys. The brain was not abnormal in the gross but 
showed (Dr. W. L. Worcester) some acute changes (also larger 
cells pigmented). 

CASE 19. (D. S. H. 10106, Path. 663) a cheerful Irish 
house-wife (mannerism of drawling words) underwent a maniacal 
attack at 41, and another at 44. Delusions: "sorry she had lived" : 
"broken her religion" Given to self recrimination. 

Autopsy: Death from hypostatic penumonia. Healed gastric 
ulcer. Moderate arteriosclerosis ^ slight cardial hypertrophy. Granu- 
lar cystic kidneys. Mucous polyp and subperitoneal fibromyoma of 
uterus. The brain was macroscopically normal, but showed 
superficial gliosis (frontal and precentral) and thinning out 'of 
medullated fibers superficially (frontal). 

CASE 20. (D. S. H. 8963, Path. 679) an epileptic shoe-maker, 
50 years, was of the belief that he was sent to Hospital for hitting a 
boy and was to be executed. 

Autopsy: Aortic and innominate aneurysm, hypertrophy and 
dilatation of heart. Interstitial nephritis. The brain, normal 
macroscopically, proved microscopically to show, in all areas 
examined, superficial gliosis. There -was gliosis in parts of the 
cornu ammonis, but no demonstrable nerve cell loss (interesting 
in relation to the epilepsy), 

CASE 21. (D. S. H. 4584, Path. 861) cabinet-maker of 
melancholy temperament, Civil War veteran. Said to have been 
feeble-minded after six months in rebel prison. Violent at times 
for twenty years. Did no work, thought "soul lost." 

Death from pneumococcus and streptococcus septicemi'a. 
Chronic diffuse nephritis. The braii> was described grossly as 
normal: but microscopically there was marked superficial gliosis 
in all areas examined and considerable cell loss in suprastellate 
layers of precentral cortex. The calcarine sections show little or 
no cell-loss. But one section from the frontal region is available 
(right superior frontal). This shows little cell-loss except in the 
layer of medium-sized pyramids. 

CASE 22. (D. S. H. 8250, Path. 909) an unmarried woman 
without occupation, two attacks of "melancholia" at 36, and 40. 
Always of a retiring and shy disposition. Mental disease began 

256 Data Concerning Delusions of Personality 

after father's death. Delusions (if such) : has been selfish and 
wicked. Constant self condemnation. Suicidal. Exophthalmic goi- 

Autopsy: Thyroid glandular hyperplasia. Mitral sclerosis* 
Aortic sclerosis with ulceration. Chronic endocarditis. Chronic 
diffuse nephritis. Scars of both apices of lungs, with small abscess 
of left apex. Emaciation. Brain weight 1050 grams. No gross 
lesions described; microscopically profound alterations; extreme 
or maximal cell-losses in small and medium-sized pyramids in 
both superior frontal regions. Smaller somewhat less marked 
cell-losses elsewhere. 

Upon reviewing the unpleasant-delusion group, then, 
we exclude one (XII) altogether. It is questionable whether 
XV actually exhibited delusions at all. We then discover 
that eight (in all probability all) of our nine remaining cases 
are renal in the sense of grossly evident lesions at autopsy* 

But it will be remembered that we transferred three 
cases originally thought to entertain "not-unpleasant" 
delusions to the unpleasant group, because their constraint,, 
although conceived to be of divine origin, seemed to be 
unpleasant (VI, IX, X). Of these VI and X were renal 
cases; but IX is expressly stated by a reliable observer (the 
late Dr. W. L. Worcester) to have had normal kidneys as 
well as heart. In point of fact, however. Case IV had 
hallucinations and religious delusions ("spirit is here") 
probably derived therefrom, and Dr. Worcester found an 
isolated brain lesion correctable with the hallucinosis; and 
in any event the emotional state of the patient is in grave 

Accordingly if we take the unpleasant-delusion group 
to be constituted of Cases VI and X (transfers from the 
first group), XIII, XIV, and XIV to XXII, that is eleven 
cases, we come upon the striking fact that virtually all of 
them are renal cases. 

. Of course, as (with Canavan) I have been at some 
expense of time to prove, virtually all cases of psychosis (as 
autopsied) are in a microscopic sense abnormal as to kidneys 7 
But only about a third exhibit gross interstitial nephritis, 
arguing a certain severity of process. The above cases, it 
will be observed, fall into the gross class in respect to renal 

E. E. Southard 257 

Without laying too much stress on such results, it is 
while to say that, whereas most workers might be 
willing to surmise that metabolic or catabolic disorder must 
affect the sense of well-being, I must confess that the dis- 
covery of so much gross kidney disease in a group selected 
on other grounds filled me with a certain surprise. 

The literature is not without suggestions as to the possi- 
ble correlation of renal and mental disorder. Ziehen, 8 for 
example, remarks that nephritis brings about mental 
disease in two ways, through vascular changes which very 
frequently accompany chronic nephritis and other uremic 
changes in the blood. Inasmuch as we know that creatin, 
creatinin and potassium salts irritate the animal cortex, 
Ziehen notes that psychopathic phenomena may occur in 
man as a result of slight uremic changes. According to 
Ziehen, most of these nephritic psychoses run the course of 
what he calls hallucinatory paranoia (it may be remembered 
that Ziehen counts among paranoias a number of acute 
diseases and even so-called Meynert's amentia). Chronic 
nephritis, as well as acute diabetes and Addison's disease, 
are thought by Ziehen to produce certain chronic forms of 
mental defect which he terms autotoxic dementia, but he 
regards most of these cases as really cases of arteriosclerotic 

It does not appear that Wernicke 9 has considered renal 
correlations systematically, 

Kraepelin 10 mentions the epileptiform convulsions of 
uremia as well as delirious and comatose conditions, especial- 
ly those in advanced pregnancy. These uremic conditions 
may be both acute and chronic. But Kraepelin has not 
been able to convince himself of the existence of a clearly 
defined uremic insanity unless the delirious condition just 
mentioned may be regarded as such. 

Binswanger n states that the mental disorders occurring 
in acute and chronic nephritis are 'either toxemic psychoses 
on uremic bases, or due to arteriosclerosis. In the latter 
cases, he states that the disease pictures are as a rule charac- 
terized by grave disturbances of emotions, chiefly of a de- 
pressive character. He adds that these are all too frequently 
the forerunners of arteriosclerotic brain degeneration. 

258 Data Concerning Delusions of Personality 

A brief mention of renal disease in the general etiology 
of mental disease is made by Ballet. 12 Ballet states that 
Griesinger's opinion that renal disease had little importance 
in the etiology of mental disease and that no one would 
count the cerebral symptoms of Bright's disease as mental 
is no longer held. Ballet enumerates a number of works 
upon so-called folie brightique which tend to prove that 
acute or chronic B right's disease gives rise either 'to melan- 
cholic disorder or alternately to maniacal and melancholic 
disorder. How the mental disease is produced is doubtful. 
Ballet holds that all the various psychopathic disorders 
resulting from Bright' s disease are autotoxic. Renal disease 
like heart disease is only capable of awakening a latent 
predisposition or liberating a constitutional psychosis., unless 
it is merely effecting a species of intoxication. 

It cannot be doubted that the relation of kidney dis- 
order to mental disorder is worth intensive study, of which 
the present communication is merely a fragment. Progress 
will be of course impeded by the fact that upon microscopic 
examination, practically all cases of mental disease coming 
to autopsy show renal disease of one or other degree; in fact, 
it is perhaps possible to show a higher correlation of renal 
disease with mental disease than of brain disease to mental 
disease. Perhaps something can be obtained if we limit 
ourselves to a study of cases with pronounced somatic renal 
symptoms and signs, cases with the renal facies and the like. 

As to the question of phthisis and mental disease, 
Ziehen remarks that the tuberculous are often observed to be 
optimistic but that other cases show a hypochondriacal 
depression with egocentric narrowing of interests. He 
speaks of a sort of rudimentary delusional disorder looking 
in the direction of jealousy in certain cases. Pronounced 
mental diso'rder occurs rarely in tuberculosis, according to 
Ziehen, and leads either to melancholia or to hallucinatory 
states of excitement, resembling the deliria of exhaustion or 
inanition. Acute miliary tuberculosis may produce the 
impression of a general paresis or of an amentia in Meynert's 
sense. The inanition delirium of tuberculosis resembles 
that of carcinosis and malaria. 

Kraepelin regards tuberculosis as of very slight sig- 

E. E. Southard 259 

nificance in the causation of insanity, despite the fact that 
slight changes in mood and in voluntary actions frequently 
accompany the course of the disease. Irritability, depression 
and sensitiveness, incomprehensible confidence and desire to 
undertake various tasks, pronounced selfishness, sexual 
excitement and jealousy are the traits of mental disorder in 

Kraepelin states that many cases of tuberculosis show 
traits of alcoholic disease and says that the occurrence of 
polyneuritic forms of alcoholic mental disorder is favored by 
the association of tuberculosis with alcoholism. 

Wernicke does not systematically consider the topic. 

Binswanger states that tuberculosis, aside from miliary 
tuberculosis or meningitis, produces no mental disorder 
except phenomena of the amentia of exhaustion. 

Ballet states that there exists a peculiar mental state 
in the tuberculous. It is compounded as rule of sadness, of 
looking on the dark side and of profound egoism. This 
readily leads to mistrust and suspicion which may be pro- 
nounced enough to constitute a sort of persecutory delusional 
state or a state of melancholic depression (Clouston, Ball). 
More rarely there are phenomena of excitation explained 
in part by fever. In its slightest degree this phenomenon of 
excitation is characterized by a feeling of well-being, of 
euphoria, which even at the point of death may give the 
patient the illusion of a return to health, or there may be a 
more pronounced excitation with impulsive sexual and 
alcoholic tendencies. Autointoxication may lead to the 
usual train of confusional symptoms. 

If we compare the accounts in the literature of the two 
conditions here in question, namely, nephritis and phthisis, 
we must be convinced, that aside from so-called autotoxic 
phenomena, renal disorder seems to be marked by a tendency 
to depressive emotions but that phthisis shows not only 
depressive emotion but also euphoric and hyperkinetic 

So far as these results thus hastily reviewed are con- 
cerned, they are consistent with the appearances in the 
present group of cases. Both the nephritic and phthisical 
groups need further intensive study. 

260 Data Concerning Delusions of Personality 

As to the question of the spreading inwards or outwards 
of delusions from the standpoint of the patient, no analysis 
is here attempted. It is plain, however, that the theopaths, 
as James calls them, or victims of theomania, to use the 
French phrase, will be of importance in this analysis because 
of the equivocal character of the emotions felt in cases of 
religious delusion. 


The paper deals with delusions of a personal (auto- 
psychic) nature and is one of a series based upon certain 
statistics of Danvers State Hospital cases (previous work 
published on somatic, environmental (allopsychic) delusions 
and those characteristic of General Paresis). The previous 
work had suggested that somatic delusions are perhaps more 
of the nature of illusions in the sense that somatic bases for 
somatic false beliefs are as a rule found. On the other hand, 
delusions respecting the environment (allopsychic delusions) 
had appeared to be more related to essential disorder of 
personality than to actual environmental factors. 

The fact that cases of paresis with delusions were found 
to have their lesions in the frontal lobe, whereas non-delu- 
sional cases showed no such marked lesions, is of interest 
in the light of the present paper because three cases of senile 
psychosis were found to have delusions of grandeur and, 
although they are dernonstrably not parctic, they also show 
mild frontal lobe changes supported by microscopic study. 

The Danvers autopsied series, containing 1000 unselect- 
ed cases, was found to show 306 instances with little or no 
gross brain disease. Of these, 106 had autopsychic delusions 
and of these 106, 50 cases had delusions of no other sort. 
15 of these 50 cases appeared to have been cases of General 
Paresis in which gross brain lesions were not observed at 
autopsy, and upon investigation 13 other cases were found 
to be, for various reasons, improperly classified. The residue 
of 22 cases was subject to analysis and readily divides itself 
Into two groups of 1 1 cases each, or two groups of normal- 
looking brain cases having autopsychic delusions and these 
only are cases which may be termed the "pleasant" and 

JE. E. Southard 261 

"unpleasant" groups, in the sense that the delusions in the 
first group were either pleasant or not unpleasant, whereas 
the delusions in the second group were of clearly unpleasant 

Three of the "pleasant" delusion group were the three 
cases of grandeur and delusions in the senium above 
mentioned. Three others were cases of "theomania" in 
the sense that their delusions concerned messages from God. 
It is not clear that these three religious cases should be re- 
garded as belonging in the group of "pleasant" delusions 
on account of the sense of constraint felt by the patients. 

.The remainder of the "pleasant group," as the delu- 
sions were originally defined, turned out for the most part 
to show either doubtful delusions or delusions involving a 
sense of constraint rather than of pleasure. 

An endeavor was made to learn the relations of pulmon- 
ary phthisis to the emotional tone of the delusions. The 
few available cases in this series seem consistent "with the 
hypothesis of phthisical euphoria (IV, "happiest woman in 
the world," hearing God's voice, VII and possibly XI). 

The problems of the "pleasant" delusion group, as 
superficially defined, turned out to be a. the problem of a 
group of senile psychoses with grandiose delusions and 
frontal lobe atrophy; b. the problem of felt passivity under 
divine influence; c. the problem of phthisical euphoria. 

The group of " unpleasant" delusions in the normal- 
looking brain group should be diminished by one on account 
of its positive microscopy (encephalitis). One case (XIII) is 
a case of mixed emotions of religious type, showing phthisis 
pulmonalis together with abdominal tuberculosis and nephri- 
tis. One case (XV) is doubtful as to delusions; the remain- 
der are subject to renal disease, as a rule associated with 
cardiac lesions. 

Two cases which were transferred from the "pleasant" 
to the "unpleasant" group on account of constraint feelings, 
were also renal cases, VII and IX. The only exception 
to the universality of renal lesions in this group is the case 
in which religious delusions were probably based upon 
hallucinations for which hallucinations an isolated brain 

262 Data Concerning Delusions of Personality 

lesion was found, very probably correlatable with the hal- 

Virtually all of the eleven cases determined to belong 
in the "unpleasant" group are cases with severe renal 
disease as studied at autopsy. 

Whether the unpleasant emotional tone in these cases 
of delusion formation is in any sense nephrogenic and 
whether particular types of renal disease have to do with 
the unpleasant emotion, must remain doubtful. A still more 
doubtful claim may be made concerning the relation of 
euphoria to phthisis. The renal correlation is much more 
striking as well as statistically better based. A further 
communication will attack the problem from the side of 
the kidneys in a larger series of cases. 


i Southard. On the Somatic Sources of Somatic Delusions, Journal of 
Abnormal Psychology, December, 1912-January, 1913. 

aSouthard and Tepper. The Possible Correlation between Delusions and 
Cortex Lesions in General Paresis. Journal of Abnormal Psychology, October- 
November, 1913. ! 

3 Southard and Stearns. How far is the Environment Responsible for Delu- 
sions? Journal of Abnormal Psychology, June-July, 1913. 

4Southard. A Comparison of the Mental Symptoms Found in Cases of Gener- 
al Paresis with and without Coarse Brain Atrophy. Submitted to Journal of 
Nervous and Mental Disease, 1915. 

5$>outhard. A Series of Normal-Looking Brains in Psychopathic Subjects, 
American Journal of Insanity, No. 4, April 1913. 

6Southard and Bond, Clinical and Anatomical Analysis of 25 Cases of 
Mental Disease Arising in the Fifth Decade, with remarks on the Melancholia 
Question and Further Observations on the Distribution of Cortical Pigments. 

ySouthard and Canavan. On the Nature and Importance of Kidney Lesions 
in Psychopathic Subjects: A Study of One Hundred Cases Autopsied at the Boston 
State Hospital. Journal of Medical Research, No. 2, November, 1914. 

SZiehen. Psychiatric, Vierte Auflage, 1911. 

9Wernicke. Grundriss der Psychiatric, 2, Auflage, 1906. 
loKraepelin. Psychiatric, Achte Auflage, I Band, 1909. 
uBinswanger. Lehrbuch der Psychiatric, Dritte Auflage, 1911. 
i2Ballet. Traite de Pathologie Mentale, 1903. 


New York, N. Y., May 5, 1913 


Philadelphia, Pa. 

1. "The Necessity of Metaphysics/ 5 

Dr. James J. Putnam, of Boston, Mass. 

2. " Anger as a primary Emotion, and the Application of 

Freudian Mechanisms to its Phenomena," 

President G. Stanley Hall, of Worcester, Mass. 

3. "The Theory of 'Settings' and the Psychoneuroses, " 

Dr. Morton Prince, of Boston, Mass. 

4. "The Mechanisms of Essential Epilepsy," 

Dr. L. Pierce Clark, of New York, N. Y. 

5. " Material Illustrative of the "Principle of Primary 

Identification,' " 

Dr. Trigant Burrow, of Baltimore, Md 

6. "Psychoneuroses Among Primitive Tribes," 

Dr. Isador BL Coriat, of Boston, Mass. 

7. "Data Concerning Delusions of Personality," 

Dr. E. E. Southard, of Boston, Mass. 

8. "Dyslalia Viewed as a Centre-Asthenia." 

Dr. Walter B. Swift, of Boston, Mass. 

9. "Constructive Delusions," 

Dr. John T. MacCurdy and Dr. W. T. Treadway. 

of New York, N. Y. 
10. "Narcissism," 

Dr. J. S. Van Teslaar, of Boston, Mass, 
n. "The Origin of Supernatural Explanations," 

Dr. Tom A. Williams, of Washington, D. G 
12. 6 'The Psychoanalytic Treatment of Hystero-Epilepsy, '' 

L. E. Emerson, Ph. D., of Boston, Mass. 


264 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psycho pat ho logical Ass'n 

The meeting was called to order by the President, Dr. 
Alfred Reginald Allen, at 9:30 A. M. ? in Parlor E, Hotel 

Dr. Allen delivered The Presidential Address. 

Dr. James J. Putnam, of Boston, read a paper entitled, 
"The Necessity of Metaphysics." 1 


DR. MORTON PRINCE, Boston: I sympathize with Dr. 
Putnam in his interest in philosophical problems, my only 
conflict with his point of view being with what I conceive to 
be a mixing of problems. I suppose that if we want an 
explanation of the universe it must be in terms of philosophy 
or metaphysics. The only alternative is to accept it as a 
phenomenal universe, as it is. You will remember that 
when it was reported to Carlisle that Margaret Fuller said 
she "accepted the universe," he replied "Gad! I think she 
had better!' 3 So we have got either to explain the universe 
in terms of philosophy or accept it as it is. 

I have no objection to introducing philosophical prob- 
lems if we do not confuse those problems with our psycho- 
logical problems. They are entirely distinct. This distinc- 
tion between philosophy and science the physicists and 
chemists clearly recognize. One of their problems is the 
ultimate nature of matter, but it is not a problem of practical 
physics and chemistry. These deal, let us say, with phe- 
nomenal atoms and molecules, with their attractions and 
repulsions, etc. In dealing with the problem of the ultimate 
nature of matter the chemist analyzes matter and finds that 
it can be reduced to atoms, and then analyzes the atoms and 
finds them composed of electrons flying about within the 
circumscribed space of an atom. Then he analyzes the 
electron and reduces it to negative electricity, and when 
asked what negative electricity is he says it is a form of the 

(i) Published in the June-July number, p. 88, of this Journal. 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psy chop at ho logical Ass*n 265 

energy of the universe, and stops there and says "I don't 
know, " when asked to explain energy. 

Here the problem of the ultimate nature of matter 
becomes a question of philosophy and metaphysics. It is a 
field of research by itself. The chemist never confuses that 
problem with the specific problems of his particular science. 
These deal with empirical atoms and molecules as he finds 
them. No chemist would undertake to give the chemical 
formula of the union of sulphuric acid and zinc by a formula 
which expressed the ultimate nature of atoms or negative 
electricity. If he did so he would confuse his problems. 
And so I think we confuse our problems when we attempt to 
explain empirical psychological phenomena in philosophical 
or ultimate terms. We must treat our psychological ele- 
ments ideas, wishes., emotions, etc, as the chemist treats 
atoms and molecules. But, just as the latter may take up 
ultimate problems as a special field of investigation so may 
we do, if we like, but we must not treat them as psychological 

This confusion of problems is, I think, the fundamental 
error of Jung and others in treating of the libido when he 
and they attempt to explain specific phenomena as empirical- 
ly observed. Jung undertakes to resolve libido into the 
energy of the universe. Of course this is possible. All 
forces can be ultimately so resolved, including the forces of 
mind and body. Emotions such as anger and fear are 
forces and each of these forces, with great probability, can 
be reduced in the ultimate analysis to a form of energy. 
But this is not to admit that we are justified in explaining 
specific concrete psychological phenomena, with which we 
are dealing, in philosophical terms. We must explain them 
in terms of the phenomena themselves. As a monist and 
pan-psychist, for example, I may believe that conscious 
processes can be reduced to, or be identified with the ulti- 
mate nature of matter, the thing-in-itself. And conversely 
atoms and electrons may be reduced to a force which may 
be identified with psychic force, but I would not attempt to 
explain psychological behaviour in terms of such a philo- 
sophical concept but only through phenomenal psychological 
forces, let us say, wishes. In other words, I would not 

266 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass'n 

undertake to introduce pan-psychism into the problem at 
all as an explanation of a particular phobia. I think, there- 
fore, that when Jung and others attempt to explain phobias 
and other psychological phenomena through a philosophical 
concept of the libido as analyzed into an elan vitale or the 
energy of the universe, they not only confuse their problems 
but introduce such a mixing up of terms that the resulting 
explanation becomes little more than nonsense. The 
libido, whatever it may be, must be treated as a psycho- 
physiological force just like any of the other emotions. 
Otherwise psychology ceases to be a science. 

Now one word about conflicts. Undoubtedly conflicts 
play a most important part in such psychological disturban- 
ces as we have to deal with in the psycho-neuroses, but I 
cannot agree that psychological conflicts conform only to, 
or are synonymous with ethical conflicts. Undoubtedly 
there are a large number of conflicts between ideas and 
sentiments which we have all agreed to label as ethical, but 
there are also a large number of conflicts between senti- 
ments which cannot be pigeon-holed as ethical. For ex- 
ample, the mother whose child is threatened with danger 
and who herself would incur danger in rescuing her child, 
undergoes a conflict between her fear instinct, on the one 
hand, and her love on the other, exciting also her anger 
emotion. The anger and love conflict with the fear, down 
and repress it. There you have a conflict but I think it 
could not be classed as an ethical conflict. It is a general 
law, whenever one instinct antagonizes another instinct there 
is a conflict. It is a conflict which has its prototype in the 
lower organic processes. Thus Sherrington's spinal re- 
flexes, that he has worked out so beautifully, involve con- 
flicts between opposing organic impulses. In the scratch 
reflex, for instance, the impulse which excites the flexor 
muscles inhibits the excitation of the extensor muscles. I 
believe this principle underlies the higher processes and 
upon it is built up the whole of the psycho-physiological 

DR. TOM A. WILLIAMS, Washington, D. C. : I want 
Dr. Putnam to reply to two objections to his position. One, 
the manifestations of functional capacities which are them- 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass*n 267 

selves dependent upon structural differences. I am not 
talking now of psychogenetic determinants, but alone of 
the trends of which Dr. Putnam has spoken. Is he not 
assuming the contrary to Darwin when he says that function 
precedes structure? A,re not the potentials dependent 
upon the variation which has determined this function? 
I am speaking now in the broadest possible terms and not 
confining myself to the cerebrum. Do we not find it in the 
tadpole who is prepared for breathing not because he wants 
to breathe, but because he is going to have a new kind of 
breathing apparatus and the duck who takes to the water 
because he has the mechanism to swim? 

Two, in regard to Hegel and the appeal to the ethical as 
being of a different type from the motive of biological satis- 
faction. Is not that difficulty only apparent, and is it not 
answered by Dr. Putnam's own appeal that these matters 
should be settled independently, and is not it the case that 
the average sexual m^n would settle it very differently from 
Dr. Putnam himself and most of us; and is not it true that, 
though the ethical determinants of behaviour are not 
auspicious for the average sexual satisfactions of man, yet 
are they not themselves forms of hedonistic satisfactions? 
For a man who would behave unethically would be miserable 
in doing so by the loss of his own self-respect. So that he 
already has a hedonistic determinant for -his own conduct 
which is in harmony with the biological concepts of Aristotle. 

DR. JAMES J. PUTNAM, Boston: I should be very sorry 
to be taken as wishing to put myself in the sort of adverse 
position which Dr. Prince and Dr. Williams believe me to 
assume. I accept, of course, the proposition that there 
are conflicts which are not ethical, and, as Dr. Williams says, 
the average man would naturally come to different conclu- 
sions from those of the trained man in ethical matters. I 
want to make a slight movement towards restoring a balance 
which it seemed to me had become tipped too far one way. 
Psychoanalysts, for example, actually deal with metaphysics 
and yet they do not really study out what this involves. 
If we were nothing but scientific men we could say, "very 
well, let metaphysics go." But we are not. We are dealing 
with individuals who are thrilling with desires, hopes and 

268 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass'n 

fears, the movements of which cannot be expressed in scien- 
tific formulae. Dr. Williams speaks of Darwin. It can be 
asserted with justice, however, that the genetic method of 
investigation which is exemplified by Darwin's study of 
evolution is an imperfect method for discovering the aims 
of human beings. I refer to the interesting book of Prince 
Kropotkin in' which he studies mutual aid as a factor in 
evolution, mutual aid being something not adequately 
contemplated by Darwin, who considers conflict as the 
essential influence in evolution. Prof* Judd showed in a 
paper a few years ago the change which has taken place in 
the attitude of a good many students of economics through 
the introduction of human intelligence and desires as some- 
thing quite distinct from the conflicts of interests, and 
similar arguments have been brought forward by students 
of evolution. Among others Prof. Cope, the distinguished 
Zoologist of Philadelphia and Prof. Hyatt of Boston, showed 
very clearly how the course of evolution becomes materially 
changed when desires and will become prominent as factors. 
I agree that, as a partial motive, structure does limit and 
determine function. There is no question about that. I 
merely want to say that logically function precedes structure, 
inasmuch as the wish and desire to do a thing precedes the 
means by which we secure for ourselves the power to do it. 
But of course all energies must work through structural 
media. In regard to hedonism, one must recognize that 
pleasure counts as a partial motive, but when it comes to 
taking it as the final motive it fails utterly. Our lives 
contain determinants which we cannot range under the 
category of pleasure. We act in certain ways because our 
structure and our functions and our wills are what they arc, 
and not exclusively by our temporary wishes. Our "mean- 
ings," when thoroughly studied are found to coincide with 
the meaning of the universe as a whole. It is only through 
getting hold of the entire scheme that you have something 
that you can use as a criteria. The nearest approach to 
this is obtained through the study of the most broadly 
developed, public spirited men, and such men do not work 
in accordance with hedonistic principles. 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psycho-pathological Ass'n 269 

President G. Stanley Hall, of Worcester, Mass., read a 
paper entitled, "The Application of Freudian Mechanisms 
to Other Emotions."* 


DR. JOHN T. MAC CURDY, New York City: I have been 
so interested in the paper by Dr, Hall that I have been dis- 
tinctly delighted by it and with your permission I will refer 
to a point in Dr. Putnam's paper directly pertinent to the 
issues raised by Dr. Hall. Dr. Putnam has spoken of the 
necessity for metaphysics by which I presume he means the 
necessity for formulation. Yesterday there was some 
antagonism in a discussion on formulation. We cannot 
avoid formulating. Our advance in knowledge is purely 
empiric unless it is directly dependent on formulation. We 
have not formulated enough. We have stuck too much to 
our empiric data, have not made the necessary deductions 
from it. What formulations there are have been based on 
therapeutic data and explain the productions of symptoms. 
No attention has been paid to the general psychoneurotic 
or psychotic Anlage. When this is done I am sure that it 
will be found that there are just such primordial reactions 
as President Hall has been talking about lying back of all 
the sexual impulses. Sexual reactions have in the course of 
development come to be the vehicle for more primitive ones. 
We know by observation that the infant demonstrates 
anger in a much greater degree, and long before he gives 
evidence of things sexual, in anything approaching the 
adult sense of that term. The temporary formulation of 
psychoanalysts who attempt to explain anger or temper by 
sadism are really ridiculous. President Hall rightly says 
that sadism must be explained by anger. That is one of 
the primitive emotions. Sex is merely a vehicle. The 
importance of this transference is that the sex emotions are 
peculiarly adapted to repression and when once uncon- 
scious, continue to operate all through the life of the in- 
dividual. This is less likely to occur in the sudden reaction 
of anger, which is much more apt to be blown off at the time. 
(*) Published in the June-July number, p. 81, of this Journal'. 

270 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psyckopathological Ass'n 

DR. SMITH ELY JELLIFFE, New York, N. Y: I cannot 
quote the line, but in Shaw's "Doctor's Dilemma, " recently 
presented in New York, there is an exchange of words during 
which the heroine tells the surgeon that she is tempted to 
pass from loving him to hating him. He replied that one 
is surprised after all what an amazing little difference there 
is between the two different attitudes of mind. Dr. Jelliffe 
said he was quite in sympathy with what Dr. MacCurdy 
had been saying, with | reference to the need for formulation: 
We all know how these formulations have grown and how 
they are utilized practically. For instance, we formulate 
an attitude towards space. We wish to handle space and 
say 3 ft. or 7 ft. in order to handle space relations. In other 
words, to handle space we utilize a formulation which we 
call a measure of space. In the same manner in order to 
handle time we make a hypothetical unit to be pragmatic. 
In handling the phenomena of electricity, we formulate 
other units. , In my own mind there has grown up therefore 
the analogy that in order to handle psychological phenomen 
we have formulated the Oedipus by hypothesis. This 
hypothesis I would define as the unconscious biological 
directing of the energy of the child towards the parent of 
the opposite sex and away from that of the same sex. This 
is the unconscious basis of what in consciousness we call 
love and hate. The boy is unconsciously directed away 
from the parent of the same sex. He develops according to 
the Oedipus hypothesis the desire to get away from the 
father or the father image. All other men are patterned 
after the father image and if this strong biological direction 
fails to take place, his interest not being directed in ari 
opposite direction, he fails to mate and thus fails in his 
reproductive function. The reproductive function cannot 
go on without this biological thrust towards the proper 
object. By Narcissism is meant the formulation that a new 
development is taking place in the infantile Oedipus fantasy. 
The child cannot hold on to the mother image. He passes 
it to others nearer his own age. He does it first through 
his own identification with the female. His bisexuality 
permits this. Similarly the infantile father protest must be 
supplanted by an evolved brotherly love. The competition 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass'n 271 

with the father image must take a new form. It must be a 
mutual competition with mutual productivity. Any con- 
tact between man and man that does not ensue to the value 
of both in some degree, therefore, registers a failure to sub- 
limate the unconscious .father hatred of the infantile stage 
of development. Sublimated hatred of the father image is 
brotherly love. Sublimated love of the mother image is 
taking one's place in the world as a father for the continuance 
of the race. In the unconscious the formula of direction 
against same sex and towards opposite sex, means therefore 
that in the unconscious love and hate are the same; one 
cannot give them these names however. 

Thus I would enlarge the Oedipus formula and say that 
it is useful not only in understanding the neurotic, but it 
can be used to measure up all psychological situations. 

DR. JAMES J. PUTNAM, Boston: I deeply appreciated 
and enjoyed what Dr. Hall said and I have no question what- 
ever that we all who are so interested in psychological work 
profit by arguments of this sort being brought before our 
notice. I think it is an unfortunate thing that Adler, who 
was on that line and did such good work in it, coupled his 
statements with a sort of denunciation of Freud's views. 
It seems to me to have been entirely unnecessary. One of 
the remarkable stories of O. Henry, who was a keen observer 
of human nature, deals with a frontier army officer who 
exposed continually himself to danger, desiring to work out 
in an indirect way this feeling of conquering one person by 
another, only it was himself, his own cowardice, that he 
wished eventually to conquer. I would ask Dr. Hall if the 
notion of which Royce has made so much, namely, the social 
concept, is not one which perhaps would act as the common 
denominator in these cases. We cannot assert ourselves 
and get angry without virtually having reference to other 
persons, neither can we have sex feelings without such 
reference. It seems that the social instinct or imagination 
which is carried around by every individual and which de- 
termines his acts is as natural and as invariably present as 
the existence of a desire to live, not to speak of the desire to 

DR. MORTON PRINCE, Boston : I feel extremely thankful 

272 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass'n 

to Dr. Hall for his very interesting and satisfying presenta- 
tion of the thesis which he has given us. I remember an 
old gentleman once saying to me, in speaking of another 
man with whom he had been conversing., % He is a very 
intelligent man. He thinks just as I do." So I think Dr. 
Hall is a very intelligent man; he thinks just as I do. I am 
entirely in accord with his views which he has so well ex- 
pressed. What he has said is in principle the basis of the 
paper which I intended to present this morning but which, 
in view of the length of our programme, I have decided to 

The principle underlying the large number of concrete 
facts which he has given is that besides the sexual instinct 
there are a large number of other instincts one of which is 
anger which have a very important place and play import- 
ant parts in personality. Some of these instincts play not 
only as important a part as the sexual instinct but even a 
more important part. And, as Dr. Hall has said, the Freud- 
ian mechanisms can be applied to them just as well and just 
as logically. If an analysis is fully carried out along the 
directions of these instincts we find, according to my observa- 
tions, the same disturbances that we find from conflicts with 
the sexual instinct and effected by the same mechanisms. 
Amongst these instincts besides anger there is the parental 
instinct, containing, if we follow Mr. McDougall's terminol- 
ogy, tender feeling or love. At any rate love is an instinct 
entirely distinct from the sexual instinct. There arc also 
the instinct of self-assertion and, fully as important as any, 
that of self-abasement. This last, according to my observa- 
tions and interpretations plays a very important part in 
many cases of psycho-neurosis and leads through conflicts 
to the same disturbances of personality that one finds brought 
about by conflicts between the other instincts- That love 
may be something entirely separate and distinct from the 
sexual instinct is a view which is generally recognized and 
accepted by psychological writers but entirely ignored, as 
a rule, by Freudian writers. A criticism which I would make 
of the work of the Freudians is that while they recognize 
these instincts they do not give them their full value nor 
study them as completely and thoroughly nor do they 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass'n 273 

carry their studies to the final logical conclusion as they 
do with the sexual instinct. So far as they may do so they 
subordinate these instinctive emotions entirely to the sexual 
instinct so that these latter simply make use of them. When 
the psycho-neuroses are completely studied we will find the 
same repression of the various instinctive dispositions and* 
impulses to which I have referred in the one case as in the 
other, and of ideas organized with these disposition. We find 
the same conflicts and resulting disturbances. The sexual 
instinct has no hegemony. To my mind each occupies 
precisely the same position and may play the same part in 

When you bear in mind that psychologically it is a fact, 
as I believe, that sentiments are formed by the organization 
of emotional instincts with ideas, with the memories of 
experiences, as Shand has pointed out, and when you re- 
member that it is through the force of emotional instincts 
thus organized that an idea, i e., a sentiment, acquires its 
driving force which tends to carry the idea to fulfilment, 
and when you bear in mind that sentiments thus formed are 
derived from antecedent experiences sometimes dating back 
to childhood and sometimes persisting through life, we can 
understand how conflicts arise between antagonistic senti- 
ments and the part which the different instincts, through 
the force of their impulses, play in these conflicts. 

Furthermore when we bear in mind that sentiments 
thus originating and organized are conserved in the subcon- 
scious forming what I call the "setting" which gives idea 
meaning, the meaning being the most important component 
of any idea, and when we bear in mind that this subconscious 
setting is an integral part of the total mechanism of thought 
each sentiment in the setting striving to carry itself to 
completion, and for this purpose repressing every conflicting 
sentiment I think we find a satisfactory explanation of the 
disturbances due to conflict in the psycho-neuroses. Such a 
mechanism gives full value to any one and all of the emotion- 
al instincts without giving primacy to any one, 

DR. WALTER B. SWIFT, Boston: In regard to the origin 
of emotions: I understood Dn Hall to say that they were 
not instinct. Of late I have been observing two young 

274 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psycho pat ho logical Ass'n 

children develop certain emotions. The starting point of 
that development has seemed to be in the imitation of 
motions seen in others. It is plain to see that this is along 
the line of the James-Lange hypothesis. So that before 
these motions were seen there was no emotion in the child. 
If these motions were observed and imitated by the children 
then the emotions developed. I would, therefore, like to 
ask President Hall whether he would consider imitation of 
motion* seen in another as the starting point of the develop- 
ment of emotion. 

DR. TOM WILLIAMS, Washington, D. C. : The value of 
formulation we know. It has been well illustrated by Dr, 
Hall's paper that he has by definite concept followed out by 
investigation of this. The disadvantage of formulation, is 
very well shown by over-formulation by the scholastics in 
the Middle Ages. I think Dr. Hall's wonderful contribution 
to our psychological researches should be kept in mind by 
those who have excessively formulated in a certain direction 
in order that some of us at least may apply to some of the 
other emotions what others have attempted concerning 
libido. Dr. Prince has long appealed for other methods than 
those which have been applied so exclusively to the sexuality. 
In reference to the manifestation of the anger trend, for 
instance, it may be not only a definitely conscious manifes- 
tation, but it may perhaps produce a crisis even in dream- 
thought. I am speaking of a case. A young boy at board- 
ing school who was a musical genius had been very much 
bullied. He suffered a great deal from this, but did not 
retaliate until one night in the dormitory with eight boys 
while asleep, he being badgered by neighbors, got up while 
asleep and attacked these larger boys and discomfited them. 
It was the subject of conversation in the dormitory, whether 
he was really asleep or not. The boy became so terrible 
in his anger on future occasions and so successful as a fighter 
that his bullying thereafter ceased, and his status in the 
school thereafter was different. Whether this really oc- 
curred in a dream state or was mere simulation I cannot 

DR, A. A. BRILL, New York City: I must say that the 
mechanisms described so interestingly by Pres, Hall are 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psycho pathological Ass'n 275 

found in our patients during analysis and I believe that 
almost all of them belong to the love and hate principles. 
This may not seem so on superficial examination, thus, I 
have on record nine cases of 'women who were suffering from 
various forms of psychoneurosis, one of whose symptoms 
"was screaming. Every once in a while they had to scream. 
It -was an obsessive screaming. Questioning elicited that 
the screaming always occurred when they were thinking of 
some terrible or painful thought. For instance, one woman 
went through fancies of killing her husband and when she 
came to the idea of shooting him, she began to scream. 
Here one might think that it was an ethical struggle which 
had nothing to do with sex, but if one considers that it was 
against her husband that her anger was directed, that she 
wished to kill him because he abused her and that there was 
another man in the case, it becomes quite clear that the 
anger had a sexual motive. 

Concerning new formulations, I feel that there is nothing 
against promulgating new attitudes and theories, provided 
one has sufficient cause for doing so. Formulations based 
on insufficient data and hastily constructed are dangerous, 
to say the least. Prof. Freud is most careful in formulating 
new theories. He gathers his material for years before he 
puts it forth in the form of tentative theories and does not 
hesitate to modify them if occasion demands. Nor is it 
true that the Freudians ignore the work done by others. 
Freud and his followers give due credit to other observers, 
but as the Freudian mechanisms have opened up so many 
new fields for investigation, we naturally give most of our 
time to this work. That does not at all signify that we ignore 
everything else, as some believe. Freud himself continually 
urges that the psychoanalytic problems should be taken up 
by observers in other fields than medicine and I was, there- 
fore, extremely pleased to hear Prof. Hall's formulations of 
anger. I do not believe, however, that his paper shows that 
we are overestimating the sexual impulse. Basically, all 
his mechanisms come under the heading of "-Sex," as we 
understand it. 

DR. L. E. EMERSON, Boston, Mass: I wish to express 
my delight in President HalPs paper. It seems to me what 

276 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass*n 

he has done has been to show the breadth of the Freudian 
conception of sex. The word sex as the Freudians use it, 
includes all personal relations and even personality; and it 
is apparently in question only as to whether one is going to 
draw a line at one place and say everything on this side is 
sex and the other side personality, or whether one is going 
to enlarge the concept of sex to include personality. That 
as I understand it, is what Dr. White has also said. It 
seems to me the value of the sex conception lies in the fact 
that while it can be expanded, and is illimitable, at the same 
time it focuses, it does come to a point. Personalities as 
talked of ordinarily have no point, they are too vague. On 
the other hand, a man who has a mind no bigger than a 
pinhole is too circumscribed to be capable of understanding 
any very broad generalization. If one can grasp a concep- 
tion that does have a center, even though no circumference, 
he has got hold of a very valuable generalization. 

DR. E. E. SOUTHARD, Boston: Dr. Jelliffe has just 
brought into ridicule what he terms "pinhole psychiatry;'* 
but as I remember it, there is a technical method in psycholo- 
gy whereby things may be more clearly visible through a 

The valuable thing about President Hall's communi- 
cation is that the .fundamental distinction is brought out 
between two groups of workers in "psychopathology. I 
should be inclined to divide the people in this room into what 
might be termed emotional monists and emotional pluralists. 
The Freudian theory is in general a theory of emotional 
monism and therefore fundamentally must satisfy a 
great many of the Hegelian tenets. Hence, perhaps Dr. 
Putnam's adherence to both Hegel and Freud. Now as I 
understand it, what Dr. Prince wants is an emotional 
pluralism such as might well be founded upon the data in 
MacDougalPs "Social Psychology" and in Shand's work on 
"The Foundations of Character." This view of emotional 
pluralism is one which I should myself be compelled to hold. 
We must remember, however, that the work of Cannon on 
various types of emotion may possibly show that different 
emotions which look vastly unlike (e. g. fear and rage) may 
be in some sense equivalents. Fear may be equivalent to 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass'n 277 

rage much as different types of energy in the physical uni- 
verse are equivalent to one another. The emotions may be 
interchangeable in some sense so that it might be possible 
that sex emotion and the emotion of fear are translatable. 
In this way there might be constructed a fundamental 
monism of emotion in the same sense that energetics is a 
science which unifies electricity, heat, magnetism, etc. It 
would not seem to me, however, appropriate to identify all 
kinds of emotion with the sexual. 

PRESIDENT HALL: It would take an encylopedia and 
an omniscient mind and many hours and days to exhaust 
such a topic as this. Dr. Southard has said some of the 
things I would have said. I supposed this society was primarily 
interested in pragmatic discussions. At any rate, I left the 
American Philosophical Society some years ago and entered 
this to get rid of metaphysics and arid abstractions. As to 
what Dr." Swift says, it seems to me imitation plays a great 
but is by no means the sol*e role. It is of course purely 
instinctive, and the social instinct comes in everywhere, so 
much so that discussion on almost any topic is liable to raise 
the, question of the individual versus the social forces in the 
world. As to Dr. Jelliffe's opinion whether after all hate 
and love are at bottom the same, he perhaps bottoms on 
the recent discussions of what I might call the expanded 
theory of ambivalence, as represented by Weissfeld. But 
I do not interpret this to mean that there is any sense what- 
ever that has any pragmatic value in the statement that 
love and hate are the same. If you assume this, one is dizzy 
and the world seems to spin around. Hegel showed a 
sense in which being and not being are the same but that 
is a most abstract and purely methodological statement. 
What in the world is more opposite than love and hate, 
from every practical and truly psychological point of view? 
We must not be credulous about the unconscious and ascribe 
to it absurdities, nor must we lose our orientation for surely 
up and down, right and left, light and dark, do differ. If 
the unconscious can be used to cause a darkness in which 
everything loses its identity and fuses into a general men- 
strum, as Hegel said all cows were black in the dark, it 
seems to me we can get nowhere. Ought we not to start by 

278 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass^n 

admitting that there are certain immense differences in the 
emotions, whether conscious or unconscious, and that the 
tendency to find a common background or identify them is a 
matter largely of speculative interest? 

DR. MORTON PRINCE, Boston, read by title a paper en- 
titled "The Theory of 'Settings' and the Psychoneuroses." 

DR. L. PIERCE CLARK, New York, N. Y., read a paper 
entitled, 'The Mechanism of Essential Epilepsy."* 


DR. E. E. SOUTHARD, Boston: Idiopathic epilepsy as 
found in Massachusetts material and estimated from the 
appearances in the gross anatomy of the brain occurs in 
about one of every three cases. There are accordingly more 
idiopathic epilepsies than there are idiopathic or "func- 
tional" psychoses, if the data of gross anatomy form a re- 
liable index. 

It was a somewhat curious thing that in a series of 
cases investigated by Dr. Thorn and myself, that the more 
frequent the attacks of epilepsy the less there seemed to be 
to show for them in the autopsied brains. In certain cases 
with daily attacks the brains were strictly normal in gross 
appearances. It was the frankly organic cases with large 
focal lesions that had the occasional attacks. These frank- 
ly organic cases rarely had high frequency attacks. 

DR. TOM A. WILLIAMS, Washington, D. Q: Will Dr. 
Clark explain the eccentric convulsions such as when there 
is uraemia, on similar grounds? Also, if he will postulate 
in such cases as recover with metabolic treatment. I have 
published cases in which recurrent attacks of some years 
duration were removed by means which considered only the 
metebolesia. (See Journal of Neurology and Psychiatry, 
March, 1915.) 

DR. JOHN T. MAcCuRDY, New York: I have held the 
opinion for some years that the study of epilepsy was going 
to be of greater psychiatric moment than that of any other 
condition. I feel that this promise has 'been very largely 

(*) Reserved for publication. 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass'n 279 

fulfilled by the work Dr. Clark has been doing for the last 
two years. We have found, I think, from that work that 
we can really shell out what we may term an epileptic 
reaction, which is really the most primitive of all psychiatric 
reaction. It corresponds to a flight from reality. It is a 
return to the subjective phase, which, in the psychoses, is 
no vague but a very real thing. In epilepsy we get it in pure 
culture as a lapse of consciousness, expressed either in com- 
pleteness as in a grand mal attack or partially when con- 
sciousness is merely clouded. Sleep probably represents 
an analogous condition. We go to sleep to repair the body 
while psychologically we are seeking that flight from reality 
which we all long for. The convulsion may be a secondary 
affair, and a physiological sequel to the loss of consciousness, 
which is psychologically determined. 

L. PIERCE CLARK: For the time being I am anxious to 
limit my remarks to the mechanism of essential epilepsy, and 
not to convulsive disorders in general, however closely allied 
to idiopathic epilepsy. At some future time I hope to take 
up the epileptoid convulsions and show their relationship 
and variation from that of the mechanism of essential ep- 
ilepsy. I may say, however, that I have some data already 
at hand in which certain types of epileptic phenomena con- 
nected with infantile cerebral hemiplegia would show that 
the so-called epileptic constitution is much less marked in 
these cases, but is present, however, to a certain degree. 
As has been well known for a number of years and com- 
mented upon by such observers as Gowers, Jackson and Bins- 
wanger, the so-called hemiplegic epilepsies sooner or later de- 
velop the epileptic alteration in a character analogous to that 
seen in idiopathic epilepsy. I hope to show that the main 
roots of the so-called epileptic alteration in general neces- 
sarily lie in the primary make-up of such individuals, and 
that the seizure phenomena of epilepsy only intensify and 
make more marked the fundamental make-up when the 
disease has definitely fastened itself upon the individual. 
My next paper on this whole subject will attempt to show 
more conclusively that the epileptic seizures are but an 
unfoldment of that which has already been existent in 
the biological make-up of the individual epileptic. 

280 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. P.sychopathological Ass*n 

DR. TRIGANT BURROW, Baltimore, Md., read a paper 
entitled "Material Illustrative of the 'Principle of Primary 


DR. JAMES J. PUTNAM, Boston: I am very much in- 
terested in Dr. Burrow's paper and understand it as illustrat- 
ing the argument brought forward by him last night. 
As I remember the situation I do not quite sec why this idea 
is not essentially the same that has been endorsed by Freud 
and others. One's interest in one's self is certainly in part 
the basis of homosexuality, and this is intensified by the 
reflection from the mother. 

DR. JOHN T.MAC CURDY, New York: When Dr. Burrow 
first brought up this subject last year it struck me as being 
the most original theory in psychoanalysis that had been 
formulated in this country and one of the most important of 
all the additions to our general psychoanalytic concepts. 
Personally, I found that it immediately solved certain 
problems which had been in my mind for some time. I 
had never been able to see how it came about that the 
alcoholic had a strong latent homosexuality. The ordinary 
interpretations of drinking as a fellatoristic substitute has 
always seemed unlikely, for, if this were so any liquid would 
serve the purpose, so why alcohol? Now it is manifest that 
the alcoholic is an individual who is taking a drug which 
dulls his sensibility. That is a way of retiring from reality, 
of getting away from objectivity, retiring from what Dr. 
-Burrow calls the subjective phase. Now we understand 
why the patient in an acute alcoholic hallucinosis almost 
invariably hears voices making homosexual accusations. 
The unreality complex is translated into sexual terms and 
he is accused of unreal love. I have been struck in dream 
analysis by the almost constant coincidence in dreams of 
Mutterleib symbols in the same dream that on analysis 
proved to be homosexual in principle. I t can quote one 
dream that demonstrates dramatically every point which 

(*) Reserved for publication. 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass*n 281 

Dr. Burrow makes in his thesis. This patient, a man who 
was being treated for homosexual tendencies which worried 
him a great deal, on one of the first days brought this dream. 
He was a hospital interne. Someone came to him and said 
a nurse had cut herself. He ran up to the surgical amphi- 
theatre where preparations were made to fix her wound. 
He suddenly discovered that his was the cut and that it was 
on the ventral surface of the penis corresponding to the 
primitive subincision operation. He took up a needle, 
sewed it up and put on a bandage. At the end of the dream 
he "wondered what was going to happen, whether the bandage 
would come off or not. Any psychoanalyst can imagine 
what the incision indicated, that it led directly to the idea 
of a vagina, also to the idea of castration which is combined 
with that. The bandage led to swaddling clothes. Here 
we have the whole situation rehearsed. The associations 
went to the mother. The mother changes into himself. 
At the same time he represents himself with a vagina and 
gives birth to a child, his own penis which he can fondle as 
his mother did him. 

DR. SMITH ELY JELLIFFE, New York : It seems to me the 
phrase identification with the mother is very illuminating. 
I have no doubt that Dr. Burrow would say that the failure 
to develop away from this primary identification lies at the 
basis of what is called Narcissism. I have noted this 
identification with the mother, i. e., with the female, in 
many patients. They are, in ordinary life, after making 
a very hard fight with unconscious homosexual trends and 
are managing themselves with great difficulty. This shows 
particularly in the analysis of alcoholics, especially of 
periodic types. Self-fertilization is a frequent symbol in 
the unconscious. In males, particularly, the identification 
with the mother is a frequent factor and often explains the 
value of the instinctively sought relief through narcosis and 
withdrawal from the conflict. Male hysterias also show it 
markedly. The aggression towards the father is a frequent 
female symbolization in hysteria as well. 

DR. TRIGANT BURROW, Baltimore: It seems to me that 
the President's reference to this heterosexual instance need 
not necessarily be heterosexual in a psychological sense. 

282 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass'n 

It is important to recognize that though the object of the 
male in a particular case be a woman, yet psychologically 
this need not be a heterosexual adaptation. In the case I 
have cited the relation of the patient to his wife is psycho- 
logically a homosexual one. We have seen in this case the 
presence of a profound neurosis and coexistent with it an 
apparently normal sexual life. This we know from the 
Freudian standpoint is impossible. The heterosexual adap- 
tation is but apparent. 

DR. TRIGANT BURROW, Baltimore: In regard to Dr 
Putnam's comment that my thesis contains what has been 
said already by Freud* Undoubtedly to a large extent it 
has. There is, though, some modification here which seems 
to me of importance, if only in the way of "an extension of 
Freud's original conception. One gets a very clear idea from 
Brill's excellent paper on homosexuality of Freud's essential 
thesis. Here the idea of homosexuality is that of a revulsion 
from the mother. The child is assumed to adapt itself as 
the mother in order to get rid of the mother as object. This 
first hypothesis related only to the male child. To explain 
homosexuality in the female, either an analogous mechanism 
must be assumed, according to which the female child adopts 
homosexuality to escape the father image, and analysis does 
not bear out this explanation; or, assuming the same reaction 
in respect to the mother in the female as in the male, the 
result would entail not homosexuality but a heightened 
heterosexuality. I think the formulation I have here 
advanced offers us a distinct advantage in placing the 
causative factor in homosexuality in cither sex upon an 
identical genetic basis. 


The meeting was called to order by the President at 2:1 5 
P. M. 

Dr. E. E. Southard, Boston, read a paper entitled, 
"Data Concerning Delusions of Personality/'* 

(*) Published in this number of the Journal, p. 241. 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass*n 283 


DR. SMITH ELY JELLIFFE, New York : Dr. Southard has 
heretofore launched us upon very large subjects. I can well 
recall in one of his previous communications the fascinating 
correlations drawn between structural changes and the 
character of the psychological signs. In dementia praecox 
particularly, he has shown us how auditory symptoms group 
about temporal atrophies and optical signs with the occipital 
and so forth and so on. He now proposes to thrust us into 
a larger and much more intricate sphere of activity as to the 
representation in the cortex of other changes which as he 
has described are inframicroscopical or inframacroscopicaL 
In other words, there must be some type of correlation be- 
tween the projection in the cerebral structure of the organ 
itself which is cerebrally represented and certain mental 
signs. If I see what Dr. Southard has been thinking about, 
we are certainly engaged in a very fascinating topic. It is 
well known from the standpoint of topographical cerebral 
correlation that the brain is nothing but a series of body 
symbols., as it were. Adler has entered this field and ap- 
proaches the problem by saying that the inferior organ, 
liver, kidney, or what not, is related to a similar defective 
cerebral representation of the organ, thus introducing into 
the nemological mechanism the task of compensating for 
the defective structure. Dr. Southard wishes to try to map 
out these defects in the cerebral structures and thus reason 
backwards to the somatic inferiority. I confess he lifts me 
into ideal regions. Such stimuli are enjoyable and provoca- 
tive of development. 

DR. TOM A. WILLIAMS, Washington, D. C: I conceive 
Dr. Southard's purpose somewhat differently from Dr. Jelliffe 
whose thought seems to be somewhat like that of Henry 
Head when he published his paper in reference to hallucina- 
tions, corresponding to various head zones in correspondence 
with different visceral areas and with special sense organs, 
eye, ear and so on. I have conceived Dr. Southard as being 
a direct chemical in line with Folius' pathology researches. 
If that is the case we have a great many clinical cases which 
might be underlined with his central thought. 

284 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass'n 

PRESIDENT HALL: It is almost too good to be true if Dr. 
Southard has really made connections between delusions of 
personality and the great topic of character. It illustrates 
the old Hippocratic saw, "God-like is the man who is also a 
philosopher. " Character might almost be called a name 
for all the mysteries of psychology, and from Mill's ethology 
and the old phrenologies of temperament that Wundt 
adopts with slight modifications, we have really made little 
progress. It seems to me very significant that Dr. Southard 
should interest himself, as his paper leads one to judge he 
does, in such problems as Shand's somewhat abstract work, 
and should seek correlations with legal characterology like 
that of Roscoe Pound. - It would be of great interest to 
know whether Dr. Southard obtained his differentiations 
purely from pathological cases or whether, accepting Shand 
or Pound or both, using their distinctions as apperceptive 
organs, he unconsciously reads their distinctions into his 
cases. His paper, at any rate, is a genuine contribution as 
well as an encouragement to those who seek to correlate the 
normal with the abnormal. 

DR. JAMES J. PUTNAM, Boston: I only want to express 
my warm sympathy with Dr, Southard's scheme. This care- 
ful working out of correlations one would say is a good method 
of scientific research and must lead to something. 1 think 
Dr. Southard would rather avoid the suggestion of causes 
for the results that he found, but the method appears safe 
and profitable. 

DR. JOHN T. MACCURDY, New York: As another psy- 
choanalyst it gives me pleasure to hear this paper. As a 
psychoanalyst, and one who has done most of his work with 
the delusions' of the insane, I must say that I have felt all 
along that psychoanalysis fails utterly when it tries to 
account for the manifest content of a delusion. We can 
trace the psychological stages from the manifest content 
in varying delusions back to a more or less constant un- 
conscious striving the latent content. The tendency of 
this latent content to appear as delusions depends on a 
defect of adaptation, which must have a physical basis 
probably of a general nature. The delusions, in many cases,, 
are symbols of the latent content. From a psycho-analytic 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass'n 285 

standpoint, the problem presented in Dr. Southard's paper 
is "Why is a certain symbol chosen in one case and another 
in another individual?" It may well be that specific organic 
factors operate here. One could imagine that the mechan- 
ism is purely psychological. In a hepatic condition, for 
instance, the attention of the patient may be directed to that 
part of the body which is affected by the pathological process 
in the liver and that for this reason the ideas which appear 
refer to generations in that region. At least we may hope 
for definite and interesting results from elaboration of the 
method outlined by Dr. Southard's statistics. 

DR. SOUTHARD : I am rather astonished and well pleased 
at the cordial reception of my little statistical work on de- 
lusions and upon the elaborate discussion. As to Dr. Hall's 
question whether my data were collected to prove the a 
priori contention concerning the correlation of unpleasantness 
with lesions below the diaphragm, I would say that I ex- 
pressed a suspicion of this correlation in my paper on "How 
Far is the Environment Responsible for Delusions, " (Journal 
of Abnornal Psychology, June-July, 1913). I -was stimulat- 
ed to finish my article by the appearance of Shand's book on 
"The Foundations of Character" and the articles on "Per- 
sonality" by Prof. Roscoe Pound which have been appearing 
in the Harvard Law Review. 

cc Dyslalia Viewed as a Centre Asthenia" was the title 
of a paper read by Dr. Walter B. Swift, Boston. 1 


DR. JOHN T. MACCURDY, New York, read a joint paper 
(with DR. W. T. TRKADWAY) entitled "Constructive De- 
lusions.". 2 


DR. WILLIAM A. WHITE, Washington, D.C., spoke of his 
interest in the paper and his agreement with it. He suggest- 
ed that it might be quite proper to use the term "archaic" 
in speaking of this type of delusions. He also commented 

(1) Reserved for Publication. 

(2) Published in the August-September number, p. 153, of this Journal. 

286 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass'n 

on the recurrence of the excitement in the case of the last 
patient quoted which, he suggested, might represent a 
physical periodicity as the individual had a homosexual 
component in his make-up, so that it might be reasonable 
to suppose that this was fundamentally sex periodicity, 
i PRESIDENT HALL: Sex periodicity in males is very 
nteresting. A student of mine many years ago kept his 
own record for some years and published it anonymously 
in my journal, as did another some ten years ago, and the 
twenty-eight day cycle seemed very marked in the first and 
somewhat so in the last of these papers. They are certainly 
interesting to the geneticist. We now often speak of dreams 
as protectors of sleep. I am inclined to think that a good 
many delusions are protectors of sanity in much the same 
way, and I am not at all sure that we cannot say that we 
shall ere long see that this is to a great extent true for the 
imagination. If this patient had a less vivid fancy perhaps 
his delusions "would have been kept less fluid and his sanity 
would have|been better protected. Is there not a relation 
between floridness of fancy which passes easily over to 
delusions (just as creative geniuses arc allied to artists), 
but may there not be an inverse correlation between great 
liveliness and activity of fancy and liability to fixed delu- 
sions? At any rate, from the normal standpoint we are 
seeing more and more that man lives on a genetic scale. 
This might be illustrated by the many cases, some of them 
pretty well analyzed, of cat-phobias. The greatest enemies 
of mankind were once the felidae, and the theory now is 
that this type, is made up of very definite elements, viz., 
sharp claws, stealthy tread, eyes that shine in the dark, 
power to leap far and suddenly, a uniquely developed voice, 
etc. Now the cat-phobiacs generally focus on some one of 
these traits in consciousness, but analysis seems to show that 
the rest of them reinforce the one that experience happens 
to thrust forward into the center of the field of consciousness. 
In general it seems to me that it is a great educational 
advantage to keep open the experiences that connect us 
with the past of the race, and it may have a psychotherapeu- 
tic value which we do not now dream. Years ago a New 
York paper investigated, with the aid of many of its re- 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psycho pathological Ass'n 287 

porters, and found hundreds of people fishing off the wharves 
of New York on Sunday, very few of whom caught any fish, 
and many who did threw them back. They were reverting 
to the old piscatorial stage, feeling again the old thrill of a 
nibble on the hook, and went home refreshed, even if they 
had not had a bite, because they had been able to drop back 
into an ancient stratum of the soul "which was sound, so that 
they came back to the hard reality of the next day refreshed. 
Play in general, too, we now regard as reversionary, and I 
cannot but believe that many delusions are precisely the 

DR. TOM A. WILLIAMS, Washington, D. C: Dr. Hall has 
cited the cat-phobia in illustration that the belief that Dr. 
MacCurdy developed may be one in which there may be 
philogenetic reasons for the phenomena. It seems to me 
that before we use such data we need analyses more complete 
than has been given for any of them. His citation 
brought to my mind a case I am working with now, a cat- 
phobia. The cat does not represent sharp eyes and claws. 
The cat is a definite symbol of definite sexual occurrences 
in childhood. I should like to ask whether it would be here 
desired to draw philogenetic conclusions. I think not 
without the further analysis which would be necessary. 
I have a very strong distrust of the efforts which Jung and 
Abrahams have made, followed by some of us, to draw 
analogy between the morphological changes and the psycho- 
logical experiences of the race as reproductions in the life 
history of the individual. 

DR. E. E. SOUTHARD: I should be inclined to feel that 
much of the disturbance in the constructive delusion group 
would be structurally founded upon normal or abnormal 
conditions in the parietal lobe. At any rate cases with 
hyperphantasia in my recent Dementia Praecox series 
(American Journal of Insanity, 1914-15) appear to be corre- 
lated with parietal lobe anomalies and atrophies. It is a 
curious thing that such subjects with hyperph'antastic delu- 
sions are very often good institutional workers. Although 
a delusion of persecution by poison is an exceedingly simple 
delusion, it is in a sense far more harmful to the organism 
and may be often far more productive of motor results in a 

288 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass*n 

patient than an elaborate psuedo-scientific theory such as 
constructed by Dr. MacCurdy's patient. It is obvious that 
the degree of disease does not vary directly with the simpli- 
city of the delusion. 

It seems to me that Dr. MacCurdy's work has not only 
theoretical interest but also practical importance from the 
standpoint of prognosis. 

DR. WALTER B. SWIFT, Boston : I often wonder if we are 
not a little inclined to go too far back for explanations. 
In football it is recognized that the men on the field have 
two sets of reflexes out of which they play under different 
circumstances. One is a set that they have learned in the 
lower schools; and the other is the reflex circle that they use 
after they have been trained differently in college. When 
these men get tired it; is a psychological observation that they 
go back to those first learned reflex mechanisms. That is, 
when tired, they play the football of the secondary schools- 
Something similar occurs in stammering. When a case is 
trained to have a higher reflex vocalization, and they learn to 
vocalize spontaneously, it inhibits their stammering. But 
when they get tired they revert again. In the subject under 
discussion are we not reaching too far back for sources? 
Should we not go to infancy or early childhood (to the old 
reflex circle there) rather than to ones we suppose are in- 
herited ? 

DR. TOM A. WILLIAMS, Washington, D. C.: My re- 
marks do not apply to the contents of the delusions, of course,, 
but to the cerebral capacities merely which were susceptible 
of the formation of such delusions. 

DR. SMITH ELY JELLIFFE, New York: Dr. MacCurdy's- 
paper fascinated me a great deal. There is so much material 
that one is in a maze. I am sorry, moreover, that he had to 
mutilate his conclusions by being forced by lack of time to 
condense them. It strikes me he gives us a very important 
contribution to the mechanism of the cure of some psychoses. 
That mechanism of cure, may be stated as follows: How 
can one take the split off libido which results from the 
analytic technique and apply it to a better constructive 
synthesis ? It would seem that these constructive delusions 
really correspond to interpretative schemes whereby a 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass'n 289 

certain -amount of the split off libido becomes synthesized. 
In that sense these delusions are constructuve and are, 
therefore, helpful to the patient. They represent partial 
curative processes. 

DR. JOHN T. MACCURDY, New York: I would like to 
refer briefly, first, to the point made by Dr. White to the 
effect that these ideas were interesting in so far as they were 
archaic. That is true and it is one of the profoundest 
truths we have to offer. At the same time it is of psycho- 
logical and not strictly speaking of psychiatric value. The 
purpose of my paper was essentially psychiatric, to point 
out that there is a prognostic value in such delusion as I 
have tried to outline. Now one can get archaic delusions 
in patients very much deteriorated. The point of this paper 
is rather to show, as the discussion brought out, that it is 
the constructive tendency operating in the insane as it has 
historically in the race. The second point as to the cycle 
in his attacks, to follow the inference of Dr. White, I pre- 
sume he meant to imply that there may have been some 
organic swing corresponding to the psychotic swing* That 
of course is quite possible. At the same time the analysis 
of this case showed that purely psychic factors had a great 
deal to do with it. His monthly attacks seemed to represent 
a break in the balance. He was always in unstable equilib- 
rium and the factor that seemed to decide the issue finally 
between relative sanity and a markedly deteriorated state, 
was a purely psychological one. When his father died, when 
he was released from that bondage, the relief seemed just 
enough to decide the issue. So the organic factors here 
seem to be the general, underlying inability to adapt himself. 
One of the hardest situations to adapt himself to was his 
relations with his father. If he could not free himself he 
was going to be very insane. When that factor was removed 
he became relatively insane. 

DR. TOM A. WILLIAMS, Washington, D. C., read a paper 
entitled, "The origin of Supernatural Explanations."* 

(*) Published in this number of the Journal, p. 236. 

290 Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psycho pathological Ass'n 


DR. E. E. SOUTHARD, Boston: Are all these somatic 
explanations of metaphysics? 

DR. WILLIAMS: Largely. 

DR. SMITH ELY JELLIFFE, New York: I recall a note in 
one of Dr. Jones' papers in which he says "that in the future 
our reason will be used to explain things. Heretofore it has 
been used to explain them away* " 

DR. TOM A. WILLIAMS, Washington, D. C. : I am not 
prepared to make any predictions about a thousand years 
from now, that is in the air. I mention not the levels at 
all, nor do I speak of "decerebrate metaphysics." Nor do 
I speak of metaphysics at all unless one would imply that 
what I have called supernatural explanations -needs must be 
metaphysical. I do not speak of cerebral functions per se. 
I was simply speaking of states of feelings. The source and 
origin I did not go into. I simply made an attempt to imply 
that such states of feeling were responsible for the discomfort 
and feeling of inadequacy of the patient, and as Dr. Jelliffe 
has Well repeated that the victim attempts to rationalize 
this in supernatural fashion and that this may be not at all 
dependent upon the notion of the supernatural universe he 
has imbibed as a child. It is a construing of natural means 
for getting out of a difficulty. 

Dr. L. E. Emerson, Boston, read a paper entitled "The 
Psycho-Analytic Treatment of Hystero-Epilepsy. "* 


DR. JOHN T. MACCURDY, New York: I have been very 
much interested in this paper by Dr, Emerson and the part 
that has interested me most in it has been the therapeutic 
side. I cannot feel, however, that it adds a great deal to 
our knowledge of epilepsy, that is, of idiopathic epilepsy. 
That, of course, is a tremendously difficult problem to tackle. 
If we are to regard it as a psychosis then we expect it to show 
other reactions, just as dementia praecox shows manic 

(*) Reserved for publication. 

Sixth Annual Meeting Am. Psychopathological Ass^n 291 

depressive symptoms. If we are to find out what the 
epileptic reaction is, we must study it in those who are 
typically epileptic and nothing else. Or else we may ex- 
amine those with transitional states grading over into 
hysteria, for example, excluding from our formulations 
everything in them that is hysteric. This last case which 
Dr. Emerson brought forward seemed to me to represent 
what is essentially an hysteric reaction. The convulsive 
movements this man went through were symbolic. It is 
difficult to regard these movements in epilepsy as symbolic 
because in the true epileptic there is as typical uncon- 
sciousness as we know. How can anything going on in 
almost absolute unconsciousness represent something sym- 
bolic to the individual? This is possible however, when 
the condition grades off from the hysteric side into the 
epileptic. The fundamental epileptic phenomenon is the 
disturbance of consciousness, and that is what must be 

DR. TOM A. WILLIAMS, Washington, D. C. : I don't know- 
that we can say that the fundamental differentiation of 
epilepsy is the unconsciousness. That is a psychological 
division. The paper did not give any differential why they 
were regarded as epileptics at all. There was no description 
of the convulsion, except in so far as this formed the hysteric 
form of convulsion, so I don't think we are In a position to 
discuss the paper without more clear data of these Instances. 

DR. WALTER B. SWIFT, Boston: I -was interested in hear- 
ing about the case of stammering. That will be explained in 
my own paper and I have also run up against several who 
have done the same. I should like to ask Dr. Emerson If 
he considers stammering as an expression of an orgasm. 
DR. L. E. EMERSON, Boston: Dr. MacCurdy well 
remarked that this adds nothing to the understanding of 
epilepsy. In a certain sense this Is true. I do not feel that 
I could add anything to a deeper understanding of epilepsy. 
The whole development of psycho-analytic theory, up to a 
certain point, has been based on the actual recovery of 
patients, if you do not like the use of the word cure, from 
particular symptoms. Then this has been generalized. 
Now that has opened an enormous field for ratiocination. 

292 Sixth Anmial Meeting Am. Psychopathological 

Therefore, I am not at all sure that these conceptions will 
really apply to essential epilepsies or to the real epilepsies. 
I do not know how far our conceptions which originate in 
the therapeutic situation -will apply to the situation which 
appears to be absolutely beyond therapeutics. In- regard to 
-what Dr. White said of starting from the known and going 
through transitional stages to the unknown, you do get 
insight and it may be that the condition as described in this 
broad way by Clark and by Stekel and others may be true, 
but I am not perfectly sure. I am very grateful for Dr. 
Allen's approval of this way of putting things because per- 
haps it is a defence reaction on my own part that occasionally 
I feel it necessary to report things I have seen with my own 
eyes and really experienced instead of following my natural 
tendency to go off into vague philosophizing. 


PSYCHOLOGY IN DAILY LIFE. By Carl Emil Seashore. 1914, 
xvui plus 226 pp., N. Y., D. Appleton & Co. 

This is the first volume of the "Conduct of Mind" series, 
the purpose of which, as stated by its editor, Professor Joseph 
Jastrow, in his introduction to the series, is "to provide readily 
intelligible surveys of selected aspects of the study of mind and its 
applications. " The present work contains seven chapters, which 
were originally prepared as "semi-popular addresses." As a 
consequence, the book lacks somewhat in coherence, but, except 
in a few places, the emphasis is practical throughout. It is per- 
haps not surprising that the most subtle and modern part of the 
discussion, viz. the chapter on "Mental Law" should be the least 
practical in its bearing. 

In the first chapter is discussed the practical importance of 
"Play," not only in offering the opportunity for sensory, central, 
and motor development in the child, but for releasing the broader 
life energies of the adult whose mind is confined by specializing 
work. It is shown that the fundamental motives of the play life 
are to be found in religion. 

The next three chapters, on "Serviceable Memory, " "Mental 
Efficiency," and "Mental Health," are full of sound practical 
advice. The first contains a clear and attractive presentation of 
the principles of remembering, so arranged as to exemplify the 
rules which it inculcates. The second emphasizes the importance 
of the wave form of attention in all mental work, the superiority of 
efferent to afferent response as an educational process, and the 
acquirement of mastery by a transfer of control from higher to 
lower mental levels. There is also good counsel with regard to 
the best time and manner in which to rest, although the author's 
..deductions from the physiological "curve of sleep" appear some- 
what hasty. "Mental Health" is defined in terms of our mental 
"members" in the classical way, and the "Ten Maxims of Wise 
Living," which are given, are selected from the history of moral 
philosophy rather than from current psychotherapeutic results. 

The chapter on "Mental Law" is the most interesting one 


294 Reviews 

for the theoretical psychologist, and discusses in a general but 
illuminating manner., principles of perception and of perseveration 
which are of interest to the psychological psychiatrist. The 
chapter on "Law in Illusion" seems disproportionately long, but 
gives an interesting description and analysis of three different 
types of illusions: those based on "units of direction/' the over- 
estimation of "cylinder height/' and upon the "size-weight" error. 
In connection with the second, the results of original investiga- 
tions in the author's laboratory are presented. It is shown that a 
knowledge of the complex but definite principles underlying il- 
lusions can be made practically serviceable, for example, in tests 
of mental normality. 

The final chapter deals with a specific illustrative problem in 
"Mental Measurement/' viz. the determination of a subject's 
fitness for a musical career. A detailed analysis of the problem is 
offered, and it is shown that the elemental questions involved can 
be answered by the methods of the psychological laboratory, but 
that these answers require expert interpretation before they can 
be made practically applicable. 

The author's style is engaging and clear. 


AN OUTLINE OF PSYCHOBIOLOGY. By Knight Dunlap^ Associate 
Professor of Psychology in the Johns Hopkins University. Balti- 
more, The Johns Hopkins Press, 1914. Pp. 121, octavo; illustrated. 

This volume even though brief will be highly appreciated by 
very many students of normal and of abnormal psychology because 
it is the first book to afford them just what, in an elementary way, 
they need concerning the nervous system, the essential musculatures, 
and the epithelia, whose manifold activities are in some certain 
mode concomitant to the succession of compound mental events. 
Surely, and widely, those who a few years ago "came to scoff" at 
the ever-rising scientific stream of mind-protoplasm relationship 
will "remain to pray" to the rising and satisfying goddess of the 
new philosophy. The body with its unimagined intricacies and 
beauties of still unguessed adaptation and its marvels of Someone's 
ingenuity is surely now at length coming into its own. And 

Reviews 295 

when, after the years, it has come into its own in a reasonable 
measure," the continuity of mind-and-energy" and "the dynamic 
spiritualism of the Cosmos" when they are mentioned will no 
longer draw that quasi-withering smile of toleration to the face 
of the orthodox psychologist with which some of us are familiar. 

This volume, happily devised by Professor Dunlap to meet 
this real need, at first in his own pupils and later in a wider public, 
will materially help this progress, for it has within it in fairly up- 
to-date and simple form much of the structure and function, al- 
ways of surpassing interest when understood, of the human action- 
system. Seventy-seven excellently clear and well-chosen illustra- 
tions make the well-printed text still more informing. There is a 
good index; and short lists of books at the ends of the chapters. 

The present reviewer notes only one omission of substantial 
importance from the neurologic part of the book, and that is the 
very recent, howbeit important, matter of the functional opposi- 
tion between the sympathetic proper and the other, the cranio- 
sacral, portion of "the autonomic. " The work lacks also, in this 
first edition, a statement and discussion of the important all-or- 
none principle which is now applicable to voluntary muscle, 
probably, and to the neurones. And it is to be hoped too that 
the author will take the bull by the horns and, in the next edition, 
show the nature of protoplasm in general in an homologous way, 
as the basis, through its uniquely complex kineticism,of the onward 
rush of the mental process. With this addition the essential 
nature of irritability too might be set forth in this already valuable 
(and inexpensive) treatise. 

Sargent Normal School. 


New York and London: D. Appleton and Co., 1914; pp. xiv 

In this volume, designed to serve the needs both of the general 
reader and of the college student, Professor Miinsterberg has re- 
presented in most readable form the essentials of the entire range 
of his contributions to psychology. The well-known differentia- 

296 Reviews 

tion of the "two psychologies" is the core of the book; herewith is 
reintroduced the psychology of the soul., not merely as being on a 
level with, but ultimately even superordinate to, the descriptive 
psychology which had banished from so many systems all mention 
of the soul or even of the self. For we are shown how all descrip- 
tion and explanation, whether of material objects or of conscious 
processes, is after all but construction in the service of purposes, 
to apprehend, understand, and realize which is the primary buiness, 
of life. 

This exposition of purposive psychology, surely the most 
novel feature of the book, is what interests us most, and we dis- 
cover with disappointment that though theoretically every con- 
scious state is subject-matter for either type of psychology, i.e. 
may be either described in its causal relationships or immediately 
grasped as an act of will, still Professor Munsterberg fills five times 
as many pages with the usual descriptive psychology as with this 
newer departure. We willingly conceded the importance of tra- 
dition in textbook writing, but would urge upon Professor Mun- 
sterberg the impatience with which we await more extended 
treatment of this topic. 

A second deviation for a book of this type, if Professor 
Munsterberg may rightly be said ever to write books typical of 
anything but his own uniqueness, is the inclusion of a section on 
social psychology. This too, we are inclined to regard as in nature 
of a promise, representing the germination of lines of thought 
which we are assured elsewhere* are later to receive more elab- 
orate formulation. 

Thirdly, one of the main divisions of the book is devoted to 
applied psychology, the presentation here being essentially an 
abstract of the author's previous publications in the field of his 
acknowledged preeminence, psychotechnics. 

Throughout the book discussion of general principles, whether 
of philosophy or biology, takes precedence over the presentation 
of concrete facts; the text contains no explicit references, though 
a brief bibliography of works in English is appended. The con- 
sequent gain in readability is only one of the many factors which 
insure this volume a very wide reading. 

Harvard University. 

*Munsterburg, H. "Gnmdziige der Psychotechnik." Leipzig, 1914. Vor- 
wort, S, VIII. 




Assistant Physician Bloomingdale Hospital. 

PSYCHIATRY, during recent years, has found it to 
its advantage to turn to a number of related sciences 
and allied branches of study for the explanation of 
a number of the peculiar symptoms of abnormal 
mental states. Of these related studies, none have been 
of greater value than those which throw light on the mental 
development of either the individual or the race. In primi- 
tive races we discover a number of inherent motives which 
are of interest from the standpoint of mental development. 
These motives are expressed in a very interesting symbolism. 
It is the duty of the psychiatrist to see to what extent 
these primitive motives operate subconsciously in abnormal 
mental conditions, and also to learn whether an insight into 
the symbolism of mental diseases may be gained, through 
comparison, by a study of the symbolism of primitive races. 
In the following communication one particular motive with 
its accompanying symbolism is dealt with. The application 
'of these findings must be left with the psychiatrist in his 
clinical studies. 

A great many of the institutions and usages of our 
present day civilization originated at a very early period in 
the history of the race. Vlany of these usages are carried 
on in modified form century after century, after they have 
lost the meaning which they originally possessed; it must be 
remembered, however, that in primitive races they were of 
importance, and they arose because they served a useful 
end. . From the study of these remnants of former days, we 
are able to learn the trends of thought which activated and 
inspired the minds of primitive people. When we clearly 


298 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

understand these motives, we may then judge the extent of 
their influence on our present day thought and tendencies, 

Now, in our present communication, we wish to deal 
with a motive which we find expressed very generally in primi- 
tive religion; this is the worship of sex. We not only find 
evidences of this worship in the records and monuments of 
antiquity, but our knowledge of the customs and practices 
of certain tribes, studied in comparatively modern times, 
indicates the presence of this same primitive religion. We 
feel that in sex worship we are dealing with an important 
motive in racial development, and our object at present is 
to give an account of its various phases* 

Before we proceed, it is desirable to make reference to 
some of our sources of information. There are plenty of 
books on the history of Egypt, the antiquities of India or 
on the interpretation of Oriental customs, which make scarce- 
ly any reference to the deification of sex. We have always 
been told, for example, that Bacchus was the god of the 
harvest and that the Greek Pan was the god of nature. 
We have not been told that these same gods were representa- 
tions of the male generative attribute, and that they were 
worshipped as such; yet, anyone -who has access to the 
statuettes or engravings of these various deities of antiquity, 
whether they be of Egypt, of India or of China, cannot 
fail to see that they were intended to represent generative 
attributes. On account of the incompleteness of many 
books which describe primitive races., a number of references 
are given throughout these pages, and some Bibliographical 
references are added. 


As will be presently shown, we have evidence from a 
number of sources to show that sex was at one time frankly 
and openly worshipped by the primitive races of mankind. 
This worship has been shown to be so general and so wide- 
spread, that it is to be regarded as part of the general 
evolution of the human mind; it seems to be indigenous 

Sanger Brown //., M. D. 299 

with the race, rather than an isolated or exceptional cir- 

The American Cyclopedia, under Phallic worship, 
reads as follows: "In early ages the sexual emblems were 
adored as most sacred objects, and in the several poly- 
theistic systems the act or principle of which the phallus 
was the type was represented by a deity to whom it was 
consecrated : in Egypt by Khem, in India by Siva, in Assyria 
by Vul, in primitive Greece by Pan, and later by Priapus, in 
Italy by Mutinus or Priapus, among the Teutonic and 
Scandinavian nations by Fricco, and in Spain by Hortanes. 
Phallic monuments and sculptured emblems are found in 
all parts of the world." 

Rawlinson, in his history of Ancient Egypt, gives us 
the following description of Khem: "A full Egyptian idea 
of Khem can scarcely be presented to the modern reader, 
on account of the grossness of the forms under which it 
was exhibited. Some modern Egyptologists endeavor to 
excuse or palliate this grossness; but it seems scarcely 
possible that it should not have been accompanied by in- 
delicacy of thought or that it should have failed to exercise 
a corrupting influence on life and morals* Khem, no doubt, 
represented to the initiated merely the generative power in 
nature, or that strange law by which living organisms, 
animal and vegetable, are enabled to reproduce their like. 
But who shall say in what exact light he presented himself 
to the vulgar, who had continually before their eyes the 
indecent figures under which the painters and sculptors 
portrayed him? As impure ideas and revolting practices 
clustered around the worship of Pan in Greece and later 
Rome, so it is more than probable that in the worship of 
Khem in Egypt were connected similar excesses. Besides 
his priapic or " Ithyphallic " form, Khem's character was 
marked by the assignment to him of the goat as his symbol, 
and by his ordinary title Ka-mutf^ "The Bull of his 
Mother," i.e., of nature." 

This paragraph clearly indicates that the sexual organs 
were worshipped under the form of Khem by the Egyptians. 
The 'writer, however, has fallen into a very common error 
in giving us to understand that this was a degraded form 

300 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

of worship; from numerous other sources it is readily shown 
that such is not the case. 

The following lines, from " Ancient Sex Worship/' sub- 
stantiate the above remarks, and at the same time, they 
show the incompleteness of the' writings of many antiqua- 
rians. In this book we read: "Phallic emblems abounded 
at Heliopolis and Syria and many other places, even in to 
modern times. The following unfolds marvelous proof to 
our point. A brother physician, writing to Dr. Inman, 
says: 'I was in Egypt last winter (1865-66), and there 
certainly are numerous figures of gods and kings on the 
"walls of the temple at Thebes, depicted with the male 
genital erect. The great temple at Karnac is, in particular, 
full of such figures and the temple of Danclesa, likewise, 
although that is of much 'later date, and built merely in 
imitation of old Egyptian art. 3 " The writer further states 
that this shows how completely English Egyptologists have 
suppressed a portion of the facts in the histories which 
they have given to the world. With all our descriptions 
of the wonderful temple of Karnac, it is remarkable that all 
mention of its association with sex worship should be omitted 
by many writers . 

A number of travellers in Africa, even in comparatively 
modern times, have observed evidences of sex worship 
among the primitive races of that continent. Captain 
Burton* speaks of this custom with the Dahome tribe. 
Small gods of clay are made in priapic attitudes before 
which the natives worship. The god is often made as if 
contemplating its sexual organs. Another traveler, a 
clergyman,! has described the same worship in this tribe. 
He has observed idols in priapic attitudes, rudely carved in 
wood, and others made of clay. On the lower Congo the 
same worship is described, where both male and female 
figures with disproportionate genital organs are used for 
purposes of worship. Phallic symbols and other offerings 
are made to these simple deities. 

Definite examples of the sexual act having religious 
significance may be cited. Richard Payne KnightJ quotes 

^Quoted by H. M. Westropp, Primitive Symbolism. 

tj. W. Wood. The uncivilized Races. 

{The symbolical language of ancient art and mythology. 

S anger Brown II., M. D. 301 

a passage from Captain Cook's voyages to one of the 
Southern Pacific Islands. The Missionaries of the ex- 
pedition on this occasion assembled the members of the 
party for religious ceremonies in which the natives joined. 
The primitive natives observed the ceremony with great 
respect and then with due solemnity enacted their form of 
sacred worship. Quite to the astonishment of the white 
people, this ceremony consisted of the open performance 
of the sexual act by a young Indian man and woman. 
This was entirely a religious ceremony, and was fittingly 
respected by all the natives present. 

Hargrave Jennings* describes the same custom in 
India. An Indian woman of designated caste and vocation 
is selected. Many incantations and strange rites are gone 
through. A circle, or "Vacant Enchanted Place" is rendered 
pure by certain rites and sprinkled with wine. Then secret 
charms are whispered three times in the woman's ear. The 
sexual act is then consummated, and the whole procedure 
before the altar is distinctly a form of sacrifice and worship. 

Hoddar M. Westropp in * c Primitive Symbolism" has 
indicated the countries in which sex worship has existed. 
He gives numerous instances in ancient Egypt, Assyria, 
Greece and Rome. In India, as well as in China and Japan, 
it forms the basis of early religions. This worship is de- 
scribed among the early races of Greece, Italy, Spain, Scan- 
dinavia, and among the Mexicans and Peruvians of America 
as well. In Borneo, Tasmania, and Australia phallic em- 
blems have been found. Many other localities have been 
mentioned by this writer and one seems fairly justified 
in concluding that sex worship is regularly found at one time 
in the development of primitive races. We shall now pass 
to another form of this same worship, namely, sacred pros- 


There is abundant evidence to show that there was a 
time in the centuries before Christ when prostitution was 

The Roseicracians. 

302 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

held as a most sacred vocation. We learn of this practice 
from many sources. It appears that temples in a number 
of ancient cities of the East, in Babylonia, Nineveh, Corinth 
and throughout India, were erected for the worship of certain 
deities. This worship consisted of the prostitution of 
women. The women were consecrated to the support of 
the temple. They were chosen in much the same way as 
the modern woman enters a sacred church order. The 
returns from their vocation went to the support of the deity 
and the temple. The children born of such a union were in 
no way held in disgrace, but on the contrary, they appeared 
to have formed a separate and rather superior class. We 
are told that this practice did not interfere with a 
woman's opportunities for subsequent marriage. In India 
the practice was very general at one time. The women were 
called the "Women of the Idol." Richard Payne Knight 
speaks of a thousand sacred prostitutes living in each of 
the temples at Eryx and Corinth. 

A custom which shows even more clearly that pros- 
titution was held as a sacred duty to women was that in 
Babylonia every woman, of high rank or low, must at one 
time in her life prostitute herself to any stranger who offered 
money. In "Ancient Sex Worship" we read: "There was 
a temple in Babylonia where every female had to perform 
once in her life a (to us) strange act of religion, namely, 
prostitution with a stranger. The name of it was Bit- 
Shagatha, or 'The Temple,' the 'Place of Union. 3 " More- 
over we learn that once a woman entered the temple for 
such a sacred act she could not leave until it was performed. 

The above accounts deal exclusively in the sacrifice 
made by women to the deity of sex. Men did not escape 
this sacrifice and it appears that some inflicted upon them* 
selves an even worse one. Fraser* tells us of this worship 
which was introduced from Assyria into Rome about two 
hundred years before Christ. It was the worship of Cybele 
and Attis. These deities were attended by emasculated 
priests and the priests in oriental costume paraded Rome in 
religious ceremony. 

On one occasion, namely, "the day of blood" in the 

* Adonis, Attis and Osiris, 

S anger Brown //., JM. D. 303 

Spring, the chief ceremony was held. This* among other 
things, consisted in fastening an effigy of the god to a pine 
tree, which was brought to the temple of the Goddess Cybele. 
A most spectacular dance about the effigy then occurred 
in which the priests slashed themselves with knives, the 
blood being offered as sacrifice. As the excitement increased 
the sexual nature of the ceremony became evident. To 
quote from Fraser; "For man after man, his veins throbbing 
with the music, his eyes fascinated by the sight of streaming 
blood, flung his garments from him, leaped forth with a 
shout, and seizing one of the swords which stood ready for 
the service, castrated himself on the spot. Then he ran 
through the city holding the bloody parts in his hands 
and threw them into one of the houses which he passed in 
his mad career." 

We see that this act directly corresponds with the 
part played by the female. The female prostituted herself, 
and the male presented his generative powers to the deity. 
Both the sacred prostitutes and emasculated priests were 
held in religious veneration. 

The above references are sufficient to show that a simple 
form of sex worship has been quite generally found. It 
becomes apparent as we proceed that the worship of sex 
not only plays a part, but a very prominent part, in the 
developing mind of man. In the frank and open form of 
this worship it is quite clear that we are dealing with a very 
simple type of mind. These primitive people exhibit 
many of the qualities of the child. They are quite without 
sex consciousness. Their motives are at once both simple 
and direct, and they are doubtless sincere. Much mis- 
understanding has arisen by judging such primitive people 
by the standards of our present day civilization. Sex 
worship, while it held sway was probably quite as seriously 
entertained as many other beliefs; it only became degraded 
during a decadent age, when civilization had advanced 
beyond such simple conceptions of a deity, but had not 

304 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

evolved a satisfactory substitute. 

We shall now pass to a less frank and open deification oJ 
sex, namely, sexual symbolism. 


As civilization advanced, the deification of sex was 
no longer frank and open. It came to be carried on by 
means of symbolism. This symbolism was an effort on the 
part of its originators to express the worship of the generative 
attributes under disguise, often understood only by the 
priests or by those initiated into the religious mysteries* 
The mysteries so frequently referred to in the religions of 
antiquity are often some expression of sex worship. 

Sexual symbolism was very general at one time and 
remains of it are found in most of the countries where any 
form of sex worship has existed. Such remains have been 
found in Egypt, Greece, Italy, India, China, Japan, and 
indeed in most countries the early history of which is known 
to man. 

One important kind of symbolism had to do with the 
form of the object deified. Thus, it appears that certain 
objects, particularly upright objects, stones, mounds, 
poles, trees, etc., were erected, or used as found in nature, 
as typifying the male generative organ. Likewise certain 
round or oval objects, discs, certain fruits and certain 
natural caves, were worshipped as representing the female 
generative organ. (The yoni of India.) 

We also find that certain qualities of animal or vegeta- 
ble nature were equally venerated, not because of their 
form, but because they stood for some quality desirable in 
the generation of mankind. Thus we find that some animals 
the bull because of its strength and aggressive nature, 
the snake, perhaps because of its form or of its tenacity of 
life, were male representatives of phallic significance. 
Likewise the fish, the dolphin, and a number of other 
aquatic creatures came to be female representatives. This 
may be shown over and over again by reference to the 
antique emblems, coins, and engravings of many nations. 
Another later symbolism, which was "adopted by 

S anger Brown //., M. D. 305 

certain philosophies, was more obscure but was none the 
less of distinct sexual significance. Fire is made to represent 
the male principle, and water ', and much connected with it, 
the female. Thus we have Venus, born of the Sea, and 
accompanied by numerous fish representations. Fire wor- 
ship was secondary to the universally found sun worship. 
The sun is everywhere the male principle, standing for the 
generative power in nature. At one time the symbolism 
is broad, and refers to generative nature in general. At 
another time it refers solely to the human generative organs. 
Thus, the Greek God Hermes, the God of Fecundity in 
nature, is at times represented in unmistakable priapic 

Still another symbolism was often used in India. This 
was the addition of a number of members to the deity, possi- 
bly a number of arms or heads. This was in order to 
express a number of qualities. Thus the deity was both 
generator and destroyer, one face showing benevolence and 
kindness, the other violence and rage. In many of the 
deities both male and female principles were represented in 
one, an Androgyne deity which was an ideal frequently 
attempted. The idea that these grotesque deities were 
merely the expression of eccentricity or caprice on the part 
of their originator is not to be entertained. Richard Payne 
Knight has pointed out that they occur almost entirely on 
national coins and emblems, and so were the expression of 
an established belief. 

We shall refer first to the simpler symbols, that is 
those in which an object was deified because of its form. 


It Is perhaps not remarkable that upright objects 
should be selected because of their form as the simplest 
expression of phallic ideas. The simple upright for purposes 
of sex worship is universally found. An upright conical 
stone is frequently mentioned. Many of the stone idols or 
m'llars, the worship of which was forbidden by the Bible, 
come under this group. Likewise, the obelisk, found npt 
only in Egypt, but in modified forms in many other countries 

306 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

as well, embodies the same phallic principle. The usual 
explanation of the obelisk is that . it represented the rays of 
the sun striking the earth; when we speak of sun worship 
later, we shall see that this substantiates rather than refutes 
the phallic interpretation. The mounds of religious signifi- 
cance, found in many countries, were associated with sex 
worship. The Chinese pagodas are probably of phallic 
origin. Indeed, there is evidence to show that the spires of 
our Churches owe their existence to the uprights or obelisks 
outside the Temples of former ages. A large volume has 
been written by O'Brien to show that the Round Towers of 
Ireland (upright towers of pre-historic times) were erected 
as phallic emblems. Higgins, in the Anacalipsis, has 
amassed a great wealth of material with similar purport, 
and he shows that such "temples" as that of Stonehenge 
and others were also phallic. The stone idols of Mexico 
and Peru, the ancient pillar stones of Brittany, and in fact 
all similar upright objects, erected for religious purposes 
the world over, are placed in this same category. We 
shall presently give a number of references to show that 
the May-pole was associated with phallic worship and that 
it originated at a very remote period, 

We shall now quote from some of the authors who 
have contributed to our knowledge of this form of symbolism, 
as thereby a clear idea of their meaning may be set forth. 
These interpretations are not generally advanced, and there- 
fore we have added considerable corroborative evidence 
which we have been able to obtain from independent sources. 

In an Essay on the Assyrian "Grove" and other 
Emblems, Mr. John Newton sums up the basis of this 
symbolism as follows: "As civilization advanced, the gross 
symbols of creative power were cast aside, and priestly 
ingenuity was taxed to the utmost in inventing a crowd of 
less obvious emblems, which should represent the ancient 
ideas in a decorous manner. The old belief was retained, 
but in a mysterious or sublimated form. As symbols of 
the male, or active element in creation, the sun, light, fire, 
a torch, the phallus or lingam, an erect serpent, a tall straight 
tree, especially the palm or fir or pine, were adapted. Equal- 
ly useful for symbolism were a tall upright stone (menhir), 

Sanger Brown //., M. D. 307 

a cone, a pyramid, a thumb or finger pointed straight, a 
mask, a rod, a trident, a narrow bottle or amphora, a bow, 
an arrow, a lance, a horse, a bull, a lion, and many other 
animals conspicuous for masculine power. As symbols of 
the female, the passive though fruitful element in creation, 
the crescent moon, the earth, darkness, water, and its 
emblem, a triangle with the apex downward, "the yoni" 
the shallow vessel or cup for pouring fluid into (cratera), 
a ring or oval, a lozenge, any narrow cleft, either natural 
or artificial, an arch or doorway, were employed. In the 
same category of symbols came a boat or ship, a female 
date palm bearing fruit, a cow with her calf by her side, 
a fish, fruits having many seeds, such as the pomegranate, a 
shell, (concha), a cavern, a garden, a fountain, a bower, 
a rose, a fig, and other things of suggestive form, etc. 

These two great classes of conventional symbols were 
often represented in conjunction with each other, and thus 
symbolized in the highest degree the great source of life, 

ever originating, ever renewed 

"A similar emblem is the lingam standing in the centre of 
the yoni, the adoration of which is to this day characteristic 
of the leading dogma of Hindu religion. There is scarcely 
a temple in India which has not its lingam, and in numerous 
instances this symbol is the only form under which the god 
Siva is worshipped. " 

In "Ancient Sex Worship" we read, "As the male 
genital organs were held in early times to exemplify the 
actual male creative power, various natural objects were 
seized upon to express the theistic idea and at the same time 
point to those points of the human form. Hence, a simili- 
tude is recognized in a pillar, a heap of stones, a tree between 
two rocks, a club between two pine cones, a trident, a 
thyrsus tied around with two ribbons with the ends pendant, 
a thumb and two fingers. The caduceus again the con- 
spicuous part of the sacred Triad Ashur is symbolized by a 
single stone placed upright, the stump of a tree, a block, 
a tower, a spire, minaret, pole, pine, poplar or pine tree." 

Hargrave Jennings, the author of several books on 
some aspects of religions of antiquity, among them one 
on phallicism deals freely with the phallic principles em- 

308 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

bodied in these religions. As do many other writers, he 
identifies fire worship with sex worship, and the following 
short paragraph shows his conception of their interrelation- 
ship, as well as the significance of the upright of antiquity. 
In the Rosicrucians he says: "Obelisks, spires, minarets 3 
tall towers, upright stones, (menhirs), and architectural 
perpendiculars of every description, and, generally speaking, 
all erections conspicuous for height and slimness, were 
representations of the Sworded or of the Pyramidal Fire. 
They bespoke, wherever found and in whatever age, the 
idea of the First Principle or the male generative emblem. " 

We might readily cite passages from the writings of a 
number of other authors but the above paragraphs suffice 
to set forth the general principle of this symbolism. As 
stated above, such interpretations have not been generally 
advanced to explain such objects as sacred pillar stones, 
obelisks, minarets, etc. It is readily seen how fully these 
views are substantiated by observations from a number of 
independent sources. 

In a book of Travel* in India we are able from an in- 
dependent source to learn of the symbolism of that country. 
The traveller gives a description of the caves of Elephanta, 
near Bombay. These are enormous caves cut in the side of 
a mountain, for religious purposes to which pilgrimages 
are made and where the usual festivities are held. The 
worship of generative attributes is quite apparent. The 
numerous sculptured female figures, as remarked by the trav- 
eller, are all represented with greatly exaggerated breasts, 
a symbolism which is frequent throughout oriental countries 
for expressing reproductive attributes. 

In an inner chamber is placed the symbol which is 
held in particular veneration. Here is found an upright 
conical stone standing within a circular one. The stone is 
sprinkled with water during the festival season. The 
writer states that this stone, to the worshippers, represents 
the male generative organ, and the worship of it is not con- 
sidered an impropriety. In this instance we feel that the 
symbolism is very definite, and doubtless the stone pillars 

*Rousselet, India and its native princes. 

Sanger Brown II., Jl/. D. 309 

in the other temples of India and elsewhere are of the same 

A clergyman In the Chinese Review of 1876., under the 
title "Phallic Worship in China," gives an account of the 
phallicism as he observed it at that time. He states that 
the male sexual organ is symbolized by a simple mound of 
earth and is so worshipped. Similarly, the female organ 
is represented by a mound of different form and is worshipped 
as the former. The writer states that at times these mounds 
are built in conjunction. He states this worship is similar 
to that of Baal of Chaldea, etc., and that probably all have 
a common origin. It appears to be a fundamental part 
of the Chinese religion and the symbolism of the Chinese 
pagoda expresses the same idea. He says that Kheen or 
Shang-te, the Chinese deities of sex, are also worshipped in 
the form of serpents, of which the dragon of the Chinese is a 
modification. This furnishes a concrete instance in which 
the mound of earth is of phallic significance, and sub- 
stantiates an interpretation of serpent worship to which we 
shall presently refer. 

Hoddard M. Westropp has given us an excellent account 
of phallic worship and includes in his description the ob- 
servations of a traveller in Japan at as late periods as 1864 
and 1869. 

A temple near the ancient capital of Japan was visited 
by a traveller. In this temple the main object of worship 
was a large upright, standing alone, and the resemblance 
to the male generative organ was so striking as to leave no 
doubt as to what it represented. This upright was wor- 
shipped especially by women, who left votive offerings, 
among them small phalli, elaborately wrought out of wood 
or other material. The traveller remarked that the worship 
was most earnest and sincere. 

The same traveller observed that in some of the public 
roads of Japan are small hedged recesses where similar stone 
pillars are found. These large pillars unquestionably 
represent the male organ. The writer has observed priests 
in procession carrying similar huge phalli, painted in color 
as well. This procession called forth no particular comment 
and so was probably not unusual. It is stated that this is a 

310 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

part of the ancient "Shintoo" religion of Japan and China. 

There are frequent references to certain of the gods 
of the Ancients being represented in priapic attitudes, the 
phallus being the prominent and most important attribute. 
Thus Hermes, in Greece, was placed at cross-roads, with 
phallus prominent. This was comparable to the phallus 
on Japanese highways. In the festivals of Bacchus high 
phalli were carried, the male organ being represented about 
the size of the rest of the body- The Egyptians carried a 
gilt phallus, 150 cubits high, at the festivals of Osiris. In 
Syria, at the entrance of the temple at Hieropolis, was 
placed a human figure with a phallus 120 cubits high. A 
man mounted this upright twice a year and remained seven 
days, offering prayers, etc. 

In Peru in the Temple of the Sun an upright pillar has 
been described covered with gold leaf, very similar to those 
existing elsewhere and to which has been ascribed similar 

A number of writers have expressed the belief that 
the May-pole is an emblem of ancient phallic worship. We 
know that May-day festivals are of the most remote an- 
tiquity. We are indebted to R. P. Knight for a description 
of what May-day was like about four centuries ago in 
England. The festival started the evening before. Men 
and women went out into the woods in search of a tree and 
brought it back to the village in the early morning. The 
night was spent in sexual excesses comparable to those of the 
Roman Bacchanalia. A procession was formed, garlands 
were added to the May-pole, which was set up in the village 
square. The Puritans referred to it as an idol, and they 
did not approve of the festivities. Until comparatively 
recent years there was a May-pole in one of the squares of 
London, and Samuel Pepys,* writing of his time, speaks of 
seeing May-poles in the front yards of the prominent citizens 
of Holland, A festival much the same as this was held 
in Ancient Rome and also in India. The May-pole properly 
pierces a disc and thus conforms with the lingam-yoni of 
India. We also know that the first of May was a favorite 
time for all nature worship with the ancients. For a number 

*Pepys Diary. 

S anger Brown //., Jl/. D. 311 

of interesting suggestions the reader is referred to R. P. 
Knight, Worship of Priapus, and Hargrave Jennings, Indian 
Religions (Page 66.) 

Tree worship is frequently mentioned in the religions 
of antiquity. We are told that the mystic powers of the 
mistletoe comes from the fact that it grows on the oak, a 
once sacred tree. The pine of the North, the palm and the 
fig tree of the South, were sacred trees at one time. John 
Newton made a study of tree worship, especially the 
Ancient Grove Worship of Assyria. He shows that the 
object of veneration was a male date palm, which represented 
the Assyrian god Baal. Sex was worshipped under this 
deity, and it is shown that the tree of the Assyrian grove 
was a phallic symbol. Palm Sunday appears to be a relic 
of this worship. In France, until comparatively recent 
times, there was a festival, "La Fete des Pinnes," in which 
palms were carried in procession, and with the palms were 
carried phalli of bread which had been blessed by the priests. 
Richard Payne Knight tells us that Pan was worshipped 
by the Shepherds under the form of the tall fir, and Bacchus 
"by sticking up the rude trunk of a tree/ 3 It is shown 
throughout these pages that sexual attributes were wor- 
shipped under both these deities. In reference to other 
symbols, the writer continues;* "The spires and pinnacles 
with which our churches are decorated come from these 
ancient symbols; and the weather cocks, with which they are 
surmounted though now only employed to show the direc- 
tion of the wind, were originally emblems of the sun; for the 
cock is the natural herald of the day, and therefore sacred 
to the fountain of light. In the symbolical writings of the 
Chinese the sun is still represented by a cock in the circle; 
and a modern Parsee would suffer death rather than be 
guilty of the crime of killing one. It appears on many 
ancient coins, with some symbol of the passive productive 
power on the reverse; and in other instances it is united 
with priapic and other emblems and devices, signifying other 
attributes combined." 

Dr. Thomas Inman has made a study to show how this 
phallic symbolism found its way into ancient art, and even 

*Symbolic language of ancient art and mythology. 

312 The Sex, Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

into some designs of modern times. Thus, many formal 
designs are studied in which the upright plays a part; 
likewise, the oval and the circle receive a similar explanation. 
The architectural ornaments spoken of as eggs and anchors, 
eggs and spear heads, the so-called honey-suckle ornament 
of antiquity, and the origin of some church windows and 
ornaments, are all studied by this writef, and his text is 
accompanied by illustrations. Hargrave Jennings has also 
traced the origin of the symbols of Heraldry, the emblems of 
Royalty and of some church orders with similar explanations. 

We may add that the crux ansata of the Egyptians, 
the oval standing upon the upright, or letter Tau, may be 
shown to be a sex symbol, the union of the oval with the 
upright being of symbolic significance. The crux ansata 
is found in the hand of most of the Egyptian deities. It 
is found in the Assyrian temples and throughout the temples 
of India as "well. Prehistoric monuments of Ireland have 
the same design. Priests are portrayed in adoration of 
the crux ansata before phallic monuments. This symbol, 
from which our modern cross is doubtless derived, originated 
with the religions of antiquity. Much additional evidence 
could readily be given to illustrate this prehistoric origin. 
The present Christian symbol affords another example of 
the adoption by a new religion of the symbols of the old. 

Some reflection will show that the origin of many church 
customs and symbols, and indeed of a great number of 
obscure customs and usages, may quite properly be traced 
to the religions and practices of primitive races. Lafcadio 
Hearn has insisted upon this in the interpretation of the 
art and customs of the Japanese. He says,* "Art in Japan 
is so intimately associated with religion that any attempt 
to study it without extensive knowledge of the beliefs which 
it reflects were mere waste of time. By art I do not mean 
painting and sculpture but every kind of decoration, and 
most kinds of pictorial representation the image of a boy's 
kite or a girl's battledore not less than the design upon a 
lacquered casquet or enameled vase, the figure upon a 
workman's trowel not less than the pattern of the girdle of 
a princess, the shape of the paper doll or wooden rattle 

*Japan, an attempt at Interpretation. 

Sanger Brown //., 3/. ZX 3*3 

bought for a baby, not less than the forms of those colossal 
ISTi-O who guard the gateways of the Buddha's temples," etc. 

In the above pages, we have given an account of the 
views of a number of writers upon certain forms and symbols., 
and at the same time we have offered considerable evidence in 
substantiation from Independent sources. These origins, 
found associated especially in art and religious usages, have 
not been generally understood. Yet when we reflect upon 
the fact that many religious customs are of great antiquity; 
that when once a certain form or custom becomes established, 
it is well nigh ineffaceable, although subject to great change 
or disguise throughout the centuries; when we reflect upon 
these conditions, and realize the fact that sex worship with 
its accompanying symbolism is found throughout primitive 
religions, we may then more readily appreciate the entire 
significance of the above Interpretations. 

It must, of course, be borne In mind that no one now 
gives these interpretations to spires, minarets, and to the 
various monumental symbols of which we have been speak- 
ing. We are here dealing exclusively with p re-historic 
origins, not with present day meanings. The antiquity 
of certain symbols is truly remarkable. The star and 
crescent, for example, a well known conventionalized symbol, 
is found on Assyrian cylinders, doubtless devised many 
centuries before Christ. """"" 

The full force and meaning of these various symbols 
may be very readily grasped by reference to a number of 
designs, ancient coins, bas-reliefs, monuments, etc., which 
have been reproduced in plates and drawings by C. \V. ELing, 
Thomas Inman, R. P* Knight and others. To these we 
refer the reader. 

(TO BE co^rcLur>Ei>) 

314 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 


Cox, Rev. G. W. : The Mythology of the Aryan Nations. 

Deiterich, A.: Mutter Erde. 

Fraser, J. G.: Adonis, Attis and Osiris; Balder, the Beautiful; 
Psyche's Task, 

Grosser The Beginnings of Art. 

Higgins, Godfrey: The Anacalypsis; Celtic Druids. 

Harrison, Miss Jane: Ancient Art and Ritual; Themis. 

Howitt, A. W.: The Native Tribes of South East Australia. 

Inman, Dr. Thomas: Ancient Faiths Embodied in Ancient 
Names; Ancient Pagan and Modern Christian Symbolism. 

Jennings, Hargrave: The Rosicrucians; The Indian Religions. 

King, C. W: The Gnostics and their Remains; Hand-book of 
Engraved Gems. 

Knight, R. P. : The Symbolical Language of Ancient Art and 
Mythology; Two Essays on the Worship of Priapus. 

Layard, A.: Babylon and Nineveh; Nineveh and its Remains. 

Murray, Gilbert: Hamlet and Orestes. 

Newton, John: Assyrian Grove Worship. 

O'Brien, Henry: The Round Towers of Ireland. 

Rawlinson, G.: History of Ancient Egypt; Ancient Monarch- 

Rhyn, Dr. Otto: Mysteria. 

Rocco, Sha : Ancient Sex Worship 

Spencer, B.: Native Tribes of the Northern Territory of 

Westropp, Hodder, M.: Primitive Symbolism. 

Wood, Rev. J, G. : The Uncivilized Races. 


(Primitive customs, religious usages, etc.) 

Bryant: System of Mythology. 

DeGubernatis, Angelo: Zoological Mythology. 

Judson: Myths and Legends of the Mississippi Valley and 
the Great Lakes. 

Langdon, S.: Tammuz and Ishtar. 

Perrot, and Chipiez: History of Art in Phrygia, Lidia, Caria 
and Lycia ; History of Art in Persia. 

Prescott: Conquest of Peru. 

Rousselet, Louis: India and Its Native Princes. 

Stevens, J. : Central America, Chiapez and Yucatan. 

Solas, W. J.: Ancient Hunters. 

Wood-Martin: Pagan Ireland, 

*For a number of additional references consult New York 
Library under Phallicism. 



Psychologist^ Massachusetts Genera! Hospital; Examiner in 
Psychotherapy, Psychopathic Hospital* Boston? ^Massa- 
chusetts; Assistant in Neurology, Graduate School of 
Medicine ^ Harvard Un ivers ity . 

_7iF "IT "THEN a new method of working in any field of 

\/%/ endeavor is devised, or a new point of view Is 

T T discovered, it is natural to turn to other similar 

fields to see if the method will work there. This 

is what is done when one approaches the study of Epilepsy 

from the point of view of psychoanalysis. 

It is not my purpose to undertake an exhaustive psycho- 
analytic study of Epilepsy. Neither is it my purpose to 
enter into a discussion of the problems of differential diagno- 
sis- It has already been shown, in borderland cases, that 
one cannot tell the difference between epilepsy and hysteria, 
without a prolonged psychoanalysis, and even then one 
cannot be certain. This suggests that the whole thing is 
more or less a matter of definition. Into such questions I 
cannot enter. My aim is much more modest. The immedi- 
ate purpose of my paper is to study some of the problems of 
therapy, from the psychoanalytic point of view, of that small 
class of patients on the borderline between hysteria and 
epilepsy, or patients with epileptiform attacks. 

The first publication of studies of this general nature 
was made by Dr. James J. Putnam and Dr. George A. 
Waterman in the Boston Medical and Surgical Journal for 
May, 1905, under the title "Certain Aspects of the differen- 
tial Diagnosis between Epilepsy and Hysteria." In this 
paper the authors say, "No one, so far as we are aware, has 
as yet studied with sufficient thoroughness the subconscious 
memories of epileptics, and for all we now can say, closer 
resemblances may be found between these and the subcon- 

316 The Psychoanalytic Treatment of Hystero-epilepsy 

scious states of the hysterics than we now imagine. " p. 513 

In this paper, however, therapy is only hinted at. 

A contribution to our insight as to the epileptic state o: 
mind is made by Jung, under the title, "Analyse der Asso- 
ziationen eines Epileptikers," in his, "Diagnostische Asso- 
ziationsstudien. Beitrage zur experimentellen Psychopath- 
ologie." p. 175 (1906). 

He found an extraordinary number of emotionally 
toned, egocentric relations. There were some signs to sug- 
gest that the emotional tone in the epileptic was unusually 

The first thing published on epilepsy avowedly from the 
psychoanalytic view-point was by Ma'eder: "Sexualitat und 
Epilepsy. 35 Jahrbuch Bi Hi, 1909. 

Maeder goes into the subject rather exhaustively, after 
characteristic German fashion, but his conclusions are com- 
paratively simple. He says, "The sexuality of the epileptic 
is characterized by the prominence of auto- and allo-erotism. 
It retains much of the infantile form, but has undergone, 
nevertheless, a certain development, which I designate as 
'sexual polyvalence.' For some unknown reason the libido 
seems to have an abnormal intensity. 5 ' p. 154. 

This is an important contribution to our knowledge of 
the psychic state of epileptics but it is notable that not a 
word is said as to therapy. 

Sadger published the same year, "Ein Fall von Pseudo- 
epilepsia hysterica psychoanalytisch erklart. " (Wiener klein. 
Rundschau, p. 212, 1909.) But neither does he have any- 
thing to say about therapy. 

Dr. Wilhelm Stekel, however, treats the problem from 
the therapeutic point of view in, "Die psychische Behand- 
lung der Epilepsie. " (Zentralblatt fur psychoanalyse p. 
220 No. 5-6, Vol. i). 

The essential kernel of StekeFs view is that the epileptic 
is a repressed criminal. The convulsion is a substitute for 
the criminal act. He announces categorically that pseudo- 
epilepsy is curable by psychoanalytic procedures. Of three 
cases which he completely analysed, two were cured. His 
final conclusion is fourfold: (i) Epilepsy, more often than 
we have hitherto thought, is of psychogenic origin. (2) 

L. E. Emerson^ Ph. ZX 317 

In all cases there is a strong tendency to criminality which 
is unbearable to consciousness. (3) The attack is a sub- 
stitute for an offense, hence, eventually a sexual offense. 
(4) Pseudo-epilepsy is curable by psychoanalysis. 

Spratling calls attention "to the value of an occasional 
convulsion in certain cases. In some patients the fit acts as 
a safety valve that unquestionably permits escape from 
insanity. * . In many cases the convulsion seems to 
come as the termination of an obscure (auto-toxic) cycle 
which varies in duration in different individuals and bears 
some relationship to the ascending period of the folie circu- 
laire of the French. It seems that the specific cause of the 
fit in these cases is something that permeates the entire 
organism; something that comes and goes; that grows rapid- 
ly in intensity, exerting a pernicious influence on the patient 
by making him act out of harmony with his normal state, 
until the limit is reached and the mind loses its direction and 
control. The power of inhibition being finally destroyed, 
the nervous storm breaks with great force and violence." 
p. 361. 

Althotff h Spratling had in mind a toxic agent, one can- 
not but be struck with how completely his terms describe 
an emotional outburst. 

In a paper read in Boston last winter, Dr. L. Pierce 
Clark advanced the view that the epilpetic seizure was the 
symbolical expression of the desire of the patient to return 
to the mutterleib. The convulsive moments were such re- 
flect and random acts as one sees in infants or infers in the 
embryo. Regard for social sanctions is lost. This, of course, 
suggests the first step in criminality. Clark found that 
favorable cases were amenable to psychic treatment and 
said that some cases had been very much helped by psycho- 
analysis. I am not certain whether he claims to have cured 
any particular case of pseudo-epilepsy or epileptiform at- 
tacks, by psychoanalysis. In presenting some of my own 
cases let me begin with one that certainly was not a cbm- 
plete success, but nevertheless was much helped by psycho- 

This case is that of a young girl, aged 14, without 
known inherited tendency. Her first attacks had occurred 

31 8 The Psychoanalytic Treatment of Hystero-epilepsy 

about a year previous in the form of fainting spells. These 
were afterwards followed by convulsions. In convulsions 
the patient thrashed about, kicking her legs and clawing at 
her chest. These convulsive movements stopped after a 
while and were followed by a deep sleep, after which the 
patient awoke without any memory of what had happened. 

It was found that during the convulsion the patient 
imagined she was being pursued by a black-faced figure with 
claw-like hands, of a peculiar shape like her father's. 

Further investigation showed that her father got drunk 
and did chase her, sometimes kicking her out of the house. 
She would undress her father sometimes and put him to bed. 
Once when taking off his shoes he kicked her, as she was 
bending over him, in the lower part of the abdomen. This 
was just before the convulsions developed. The fainting 
spells occurred soon after she had first seen her father naked. 
The image of his nakedness so distressed her by continually 
coming before her mind that she made the most desperate 
efforts to repress it, finally partially succeeding. Speaking 
of her father she said, "Every time I think of him I feel like 
taking a fit. Oh! It makes me feel terrible/' 

Her father had kicked her in the chest, too, which per- 
haps partially accounts for the clawing. 

In the light of this knowledge the convulsive movements, 
become a little more comprehensible. They are futile 
attempts to run away. They are the partial movements of 

The cries that sometimes initiated and accompanied 
the convulsions at first, afterwards became sufficiently 
articulate to be understood as calls "Mama, Mama, Mama. ?> 

It was found that when her father would chase her 
about the house, in drunken fury, she would call for her 
mother in frantic fear. Here, apparently, is a meaning of 
the call preceding the convulsions. 

Under a very short psychoanalytic treatment the- 
patient showed marked improvement. Her attacks became 
much less violent and much farther apart. She became 
able to control them to a great extent. Finally she became 
so well that one might say she had practically recovered. 

Apparently there is no hint here of a repressed criminal. 

L. , Emerson^ Ph. D. 319 

complex. But a little deeper analysis suggests it, however. 
The first attack, which was in the form of a faint, occurred 
under the following circumstances. The patient was at the 
funeral of the father of her best girl friend. As she looked 
at the dead body of her friend's father the thought flashed 
through her mind, "He was so good, and now he is dead, 
while my father who is so bad ? still lives. I wish he were 
dead. " Shortly after she fainted. 

There were a number of reasons, seemingly adequate, 
for incomplete success in this case. In the first place, the 
patient had been in this country only a few years and spoke 
very broken English. She is a Russian Jew. Obviously 
this was a very great barrier to understanding. In the next 
place it was almost impossible to change conditions of home > 
although Social Service worked wonders in this case. The 
father continued to get drunk, and one of the last of her now 
infrequent attacks occurred on his return from jail. The 
patient was dreadfully afraid lest her father find out that 
the knowledge of his delinquency had been discovered 
through her. 

Not the least of the reasons militating against complete 
success was the short time possible for psychoanalytic treat- 
ment, The patient was seen only three weeks. As the time 
needed for a psychoanalysis is variable depending on the 
particular patient, it is clear that this would be too short a 
time to enable a young girl, only recently here from Russia, 
to understand, or to overcome resistances. That the treat- 
ment was as nearly successful as it was is perhaps encourag- 
ing to the hope that suitable cases under favorable conditions 
might be cured. 

The next case is one where the diagnosis lay between 
hysteria and epilepsy. The symptoms were as follows: 
The patient had attacks in which she became unconscious, 
gasped, and spittle ran from her mouth. She also bit her 
tongue. She becomes stiff, eyes stark, and is left tired and 
weak. These attacks were first noticed about five years ago. 
Since then she has had about five similar attacks, the last 
three coming within five months. The last two were within 
a day of each other and frightened her so she came to the 
hospital. At the age of eight or nine she said that she had 

320 The Psychoanalytic Treatment of Hystero-epilepsy 

flashes of speechlessness, and a thought which she cannot 
define, as of a horse or a man. She never became uncon- 
scious or bit her tongue. After her first catamenial these 
flashes of speechlessness and thought came only at this time. 
At the age of two the patient said that she had fallen down 
stairs and hit her head. She said she was unconscious 
twenty-four hours. 

As a result of a psychoanalysis the following facts were 
learned. The patient was a very sensitive child, exceedingly 
responsive to her environment. She was also stubborn and 
self-willed, at times. She was reserved and capable of great 
repression. When she was about three or four she remembers 
seeing in the Bible a picture of the Devil on a white horse. 
This used to make her shudder, but it also had a sort of 
irresistible fascination. Later, when she was seven or eight, 
it would come into her mind in school even and make her 
feel so badly she would lay her head on her arms* But she 
never told anybody what it was that troubled her and she 
would put it out of her mind. She thoroughly believed her 
mother when she told her that the Devil would come and 
get her if she did wrong. 

At about the age of ten or eleven she began going with a 
girl much older than herself. She used to visit this girl and 
spend the night -with her, and in turn have her at her own 
home. In this way they spent the night together quite 
frequently. Soon the girl wanted to masturbate her and 
although she repelled her advances at first she finally allowed 
it because she was told she would be regarded as queer if she 
didn't as other girls did it and liked it. She, however, never 
did get any pleasure out of the practice, and remained per- 
fectly passive. She thought if her friend enjoyed it and it 
didn't hurt her she should let her have her pleasure. She 
never told of this. 

The patient now began having what she called staring 
spells. These never lasted more than a second or so and 
they were never observed. She carefully concealed them. 
Just before the patient began to menstruate which was 
when she was about fourteen, she noticed" that the day after 
she had been with the girl who masturbated her she had a 
terrific headache. Then she remembered that for a long 

L, jb,. J^merson^ fh* D. 321 

time it had been so though she had never connected the 
headaches before with the masturbation. She stopped the 
practice immediately and never allowed it to be resumed. 

After menstruation began the staring spells became 
grouped and came only during her periods. But they were 
more numerous. She would have a number in one day. 
They were not yet sufficiently observable to be noticed. 
At about this time she had a terrible fright. She was 
kneeling at her mother's side listening to a story when she 
thought she saw a woman's face looking at her over her 
mother's shoulder. She was speechless with terror. This was 
not noticed and she did not tell. Around this time too she 
had another fright. She was studying one evening at the 
dining-room table when she saw a face looking in at the 
window. She screamed, and kept on screaming, but finally 
was able to tell that she had seen someone looking in at the 
window. Her father took her out and showed that it could- 
n't be so because there were no tracks in the snowwhich was 
on the ground. She wouldn't or couldn't stop crying, 
however^ and kept it up all night, she said. Just before 
menstruation she did some sleep-walking. She got up one 
night and went to her mother and said she had something 
to tell her. Her mother tried to get her to say . what it 
was but could not, and saw that her daughter was asleep. 
She kept saying, "you know what it is." The mother did 
not dare to waken her and finally got her quietly back into 
bed. The next morning she remembered nothing of what 
had happened. 

When the patient was about sixteen she married. Her 
husband did not want any children and practiced coitus 
interruptus, but she became pregnant nevertheless and 
had an abortion performed. Although c. i. continued to be 
practiced she became pregnant again and this time she had 
a daughter. Four more years of c. i. followed. During all 
this time the patient had the staring spells, but they were 
never noticed and she aever told, not even her mother. 
Then, like a thunder bolt out of a clear sky, came a tragedy. 

She was pregnant again, and visiting her mother, ex- 
pecting her husband for over Sunday, when she received a 
letter saying he had left her and had gone off with another 

322 The Psychoanalytic Treatment of Hystero-epilepsy 

woman. When she read the letter she lost consciousness. 

Then followed a terrible time. In hate of her husband 
and on account of fear lest she be unable to care for her 
baby she had another abortion performed. This time she 
nearly died through not having proper medical attendance 
afterwards, but she finally recovered and lived a life of 
feverish activity and hate. 

During her marriage she had been entirely frigid with 
respect to the sexual act. A friend told her she had been 
missing an essential experience of marriage. About a year 
after her husband left her she met a man who thrilled her 
through and through, and thought, "this is what my friend 
meant." This man showed her some attention and she set 
out consciously to seduce him. She soon succeeded and 
though he was wildly in love with her and wanted to marry 
her, she steadfastly refused on the score of not loving him, 
but was his mistress for two or three years. During this 
time her staring spells seem to have been at a minimum, but 
I cannot assert that they disappeared. 

Then she met the man who became her second husband. 
She had refused to marry her lover because she did not "love" 
him. She now dropped him completely, and getting a di- 
vorce from her husband on the ground of desertion, married. 

She was happy about a year and a half when her husband 
moved to a country cross-road near a "hotel" (bar-room). 
Here he began drinking badly, and consorting with prosti- 
tutes. For three years she fought her husband off, in fear 
of infection. During this time she had no intercourse. At 
this time began the attacks of unconsciousness. She was 
alone one night, while her husband was off carousing, when 
she had a terrible fright on seeing a man trying to get in at 
the window. This was probably hallucinatory as nothing 
came of it. But from this time forth she was subject t<> 
attacks, in which she lost consciousness, had convulsions,, 
frothed at the mouth, and bit her tongue badly. 

At the end of about three years, however, her patience 
broke, and she told her husband that if he did not stop she 
should leave him. This threat brought him to his senses 
apparently, and he completely reformed. But her love for 
him was dead. And though she now permitted marital 

L. E. Emerson, Ph. ZX 323 

relations to be resumed, she remained from this time on abso- 
lutely frigid. Her husband too, now suffered from prema- 
ture ejaculation. Thus from the point of view both of 
" passion " and of "love 53 the patient was not satisfied. 
Her attacks increased in number and violence, coming now 
at any time, not being confined to the menstrual period as 
at first, and coming days as well as nights. 

In this patient we have represented the points of view 
both of Stekel and of Clark. The patient showed conclu- 
sively her capacity for criminal action. She also illustrates 
the craving for a return to the mother. The morning of the 
day on which she had the first attack in which she bit her 
tongue, she passed through the town where her mother was 
living and thought, "Oh, if I could only go to my mother." 
But remembering she had promised her lawyer to live a year 
with her husband, she went on. Of the sexual character of 
her conflicts no further comment is necessary. 

Here then we have the natural history of what? Hy- 
steria? or Epilepsy: This question I shall not attempt to 
answer. But what has been the therapeutic result of psycho- 
analysis? This question I can answer. 

In the six months during which the analysis has been in 
progress the patient has had no attacks in which she has had 
convulsions, frothed at the mouth, or bitten her tongue. 
She has had only three spells in which consciousness was lost 
and these were mild. The last one was described by the 
daughter. She said it was like a faint; that her mother was 
in it only a short time; that she had none of the symptoms 
she used to have; and was all right soon afterwards with no 
bad after-effects. She added that since her mother had 
been coming to the hospital she had improved so much 
they never thought of her now as being sick. The bad feel- 
ings have diminished so much in number and intensity as 
to be almost negligible. Family relations have so improved 
husband and wife are practically at one in their purposes. 
Social relations have also improved to such an extent that 
the patient has been able to prevent the wreck of the home 
of a friend, and in her church is an active worker on a number 
of committees. She is now doing her best to get her daugh- 
ter started right in life. The patient regards herself as 

324 The Psychoanalytic Treatment of Hystero-epilepsy 

having practically recovered. 

The next case I wish to present for your consideration 
is that of a young man twenty-six years old. He was 
brought into the accident-room of the hospital one night 
last Summer suffering from convulsions. He continued to 
have convulsions throughout the night, and as many as five 
interns were required to hold him quiet. These convulsions 
seemed to have enough purpose in them to warrant the 
diagnosis of hysteria, so the next morning he was referred 
to me. 

"Last Wednesday night, " he said, "I was having din- 
ner with a customer at the Hotel Thorndike. I began to 
feel sick and went to the toilet and vomited* Then I went 
back and got my friend and started for a drug store in Park 
Square to get some quinine* But before I got very far I 
began to shiver and shake and I knew that it took quinine 
two or three hours to work so I started back to the hotel to 
get a room. No rooms were to be had, so I said 'get a taxi 
and take me to the hospital/ I lost the use of my legs on 
the steps and they had to carry me. In this attack I was 
more or less conscious all through it." What were you 
thinking of in the taxi, I asked. "I don't know. I felt as 
if I wanted to jump at something and grab something." 
Can you not remember what was in your mind, I continued. 
"Only what Fve told you, " he answered. Will you lie down 
and close your eyes and imagine yourself back in the taxi, 
I asked. Now tell me what you see. After a moment he 
said;, "I see flames." What else do you see? "Nothing, 
only flames. I feel as if I wanted to jump into the fire." 
Did you see flames in the taxi, I asked. "Yes, that was 
what I wanted to jump at." At this moment the patient 
gave a start. What did you see then, I asked. " There is 
something in the flames, an object, I don't know what it is. 
It might be a thing or a person. I feel as if I -wanted to grab 
the object." At this instant the patient gave a violent 
jump into the air and then sank back relaxed. What did 
you see, I asked. "This object. It seemed to be attracting 
me." Can't you tell what it is, I said. "No. But it 
seems almost like a person. It seems as if I could see an 
arm." What else do you see? "The arms seem beckon- 

L. E. Emerson, Ph. D. 325 

ing me." It is a person then? Is it a man or a woman? 
"I don't know, I can't make out. 55 Look. "It- is a 
woman. I can see now." Is it anybody you know? "Xo, 
I can't see any face." What do you see? "Just a woman, 
standing in the flames, with outstretched arms, as if imploring 
me to come. I feel a yearning, as if I must jump and grab 
her." The patient stiffened slightly and gave a sort of 
spring up from the couch and then sank back, breathing a 
little heavier. What did you see, I asked. " I thought she 
beckoned me to come." Can you see who it is now? cc Xo. 
The face is blank." Look again and see if you can't tell 
who it is. What do you see? "I can't tell. I see several 
faces come and go. " Do you recognize them? " Yes. The 
first is my little girl's; then I see a former sweetheart of 
mine; then I see my wife's face." 

Gradually the following story was elicited from the 
patient. His mother died when he was seven and his father 
married again in less than a year. The former sweetheart 
was his step-mother's half-sister who came to live at their 
house because the schools were better. He became infatu- 
ated with this girl and his step-mother did everything she 
could to encourage his feeling as she thought it would be a 
good match. The vision of his sweetheart in the flames 
was based on an actual occurrence. She was sitting in front 
of a fireplace once when a log of burning wood fell out and 
he jumped to pull her away and held her close in his arms 
for a moment. 

Finally, however, he broke off absolutely all relations 
with the girl. The reason seems quite adequate. Why 
didn't you marry, I asked. He answered, "we quarrelled 
and I left her. I didn't like her morals. She went with 
other men and had connection with them. I saw her go 
into the woods one night -with another fellow, and once at 
Salisbury Beach I saw her go into a hotel with a man and 
register as his wife," 

About a year after this the patient began going with 
another girl more in an attempt to crowd the image of his 
former first love out of his mind than because he had fallen 
in love again. A year later they married. From the first 
his married life was not entirely happy. More or less un- 

326 The Psychoanalytic Treatment of Hystero-epilepsy 

consciously he began to regret lost opportunities. He was 
a travelling man and soon after marriage his route was en- 
larged necessitating his being away from home a month at a 
time. On these trips he used to get exceedingly lonesome 
especially as he steadily refused going with other travelling 
men and making a night of it as they often did. One of his 
routes took him to Virginia and he said that he had returned 
from New York on the way there just for the sake of spend- 
ing a night with his wife. Once, in New York, he was 
unfaithful to his wife and on that occasion contracted gonor- 
rhea. This, however, was the only time he has ever had 
extra-marital sexual relations, he said. 

Just before his attacks began, which was about four 
years ago, he was told by his wife's doctor that it would be 
impossible for her to have any more children as she was 
suffering from heart disease. To his mind this meant 
giving up coitus. Then, unconsciously, he began to dream 
of Anna, his first love. He regretted more than ever not 
taking advantage of his former opportunities, and uncon- 
sciously dallied with the thought of deserting his wife. Just 
at this time his attacks began. 

As the analysis progressed his attacks diminished and 
shortly disappeared. Gradually the image of his wife took 
full possession of his mind and the image of Anna disappeared. 
Towards the end of the analysis as he was lying on the couch 
with his eyes shut, he saw Anna in the flames and felt the 
yearning but not so strongly as to lead to any impulsive 
movements. What do you think all this might mean, I 
asked. "I don't know/ 5 he answered, "it might mean I 
still cared for Anna and that if I let myself go it would break 
up my home.'* With his full realization of the meaning of 
this symbolization, it was assumed that he was cured. 

Seven months later, in company with a colleague, I 
visited my former patient and he told me that he had not 
had a moment's illness since I last saw him. He told me 
that while occasionally the thought of Anna would come to 
his mind, it never disturbed him, and never distracted his 
attention from other things* He has prospered in his busi- 
ness, and I saw every evidence of a happy home. 

This case merits consideration for a number of reasons. 

L, E. Emerson, Ph. >. 327 

In the first place the attacks were cured by psychoanalysis, 
No one who saw the association of the symbolical imagery 
and the convulsive movements could fail to see that there 
was a causal connection between them. The subsidence in 
violence and frequency of the convulsive movements as the 
conscious grasp of the meaning of the mental symbolical 
imagery increased was also completely convincing of the 
therapeutic . value of the analysis* The question of the 
permanence of the recovery is of course open, because seven 
months is far too short a time to carry complete conviction. 

The comparison of this case with the one immediately 
preceding raises a very interesting question. Why is this 
patient apparently completely cured and the other one not? 
Several reasons may be noted. The patient is much 
younger. He had never been through anything like the 
same mental strains. His trouble was of short duration. 
But above all as he was successful in his business he was 
successful in his sublimation. Here is a sine qua non of 
a successful psychoanalysis: the capacity and the oppor- 
tunity for successful sublimation. If these are present the 
prognosis is good. 

It is interesting also to compare this case in its results 
with the contentions of Clark and of Stekel. It is hard tc 
see any signs of a definite criminal tendency. Inasmuch 
as the temptation to go back to his early love Is a sign of a 
tendency towards regression and erotism generally the 
patient shows what Clark has spoken of as a desire to return 
to the mother-body. This case is not very Important 3 
however, to the views of either Clark or Stekel as the analysis 
is relatively superficial, and there is no knowing what a more 
thorough analysis might reveal. From the point of view oi 
superficiality, however, the case is important as it emphasizes 
Taylor's view of the value of a modified analysis. The 
patient was seen only five times. 

On the basis of these, and a number of other similai 
cases, I should like to suggest, from a descriptive point ol 
view, that the epileptiform seizure is of the nature of ac 
orgasm. An orgasm is a sudden, explosive, discharge oi 
nervous energy, raised to the breaking point of nervous ten- 
sion. I should like to generalize the Idea of orgasm. Ordi- 

328 The Psychoanalytic Treatment of Hystero-eyilepsy 

narily, of course, it is confined to the sexual sphere. In the 
last case I reported it seems to me fairly clear that the ex- 
plosive actions, convulsive-like impulses, were closely asso- 
ciated in the mind of the patient with sexual ideas. That 
they were substitutes for the normal relief of sexual tension, 
seems to me also clear. This idea is perhaps more convincing 
if I add the fact, as stated by the patient, that his last attack 
started when he saw an attractive girl sitting at a nearby 
table in the Thorndike Hotel, and who started him dreaming 
about Anna, because she looked so much like her. 

The second case I reported seems also easily brought 
under this conception* Here we know more about the 
earliest childhood of the patient and we can easily imagine 
that there was an especial predisposition 'for the form the 
symptoms took. This, however, does not militate against 
the descriptive value of the above conception* That the 
epileptiform attacks did not take place until after actual 
sexual orgasms had been experienced, lends weight to the 
conception I am presenting here. The first case is not so 
clear. This is partly due to the fact that it was impossible 
to make anything like a complete analysis. But it shows 
nothing contradictory to the conception, and indeed has 
some slight value as added evidence in favor of the concep- 
tion, in as much as the original trauma consisted of a kick 
in the genitals, by her father* 

This conception does not contradict either Stekel's or 
Clark's ideas, but rather supplements them. The essence 
of the criminal act lies in its unrestrained aggressive charac- 
ter. From this point of view anything getting in the way 
of the libido discharge has to take the consequences. This 
also agrees with Clark, only his idea seems to me perhaps a 
little too passive to describe fully the dynamic quality of the 

Here, as in Hysteria, the therapeutic effect of an analysis 
depends on the possibility of sublimation. The three cases 
I have given in some detail may easily be arranged in order. 
The last case having the best chances for sublimation shows 
the best results. 



Associate in Neurology, Maimonides Hospital, 



problem of the genesis and meaning of the 
strange manifestations which we find in that pecu- 
liar disorder which goes by the accepted name of 
tics is indeed difficult of solution. The analytic 
and genetic standpoint only comparatively recently assumed 
in the domain of neurology and psychiatry is having an ever 
wider and wider application. The problems in neurology 
and psychiatry which still cry loudly for solution and rational 
explanation are indeed numerous. Some of these questions 
are so baffling that at times they seem almost beyond the 
ken of the human mind. Nevertheless, with persistence 
and the "Don't give up the ship" spirit keenly imbued 
into us, and with that irrepressible spirit of investigation and 
of research born of optimism and of curiosity., we may ex- 
pect to see many of these problems which now seem to us so 
hopelessly unsolvable gradually rescued from the uncertain 
waters of speculation and theorization and brought to the 
more sound shores and land of the knowable and the known. 
If our theories be but tinctured with due admixture of that 
sound self-criticism that comes of prolonged and serious 
reflection and deliberation, and if the results of observation 
and investigation be brought forth in support of these theo- 
ries., then we need have no hesitancy in permitting freedom 
in theorization and speculation. Let us also remember that 
unsound theories or standpoints do not come to stay, but, 
after surviving for a certain time, give way before that 
which is more sound, more tangible, more near the truth; 
which, to be sure, is always but approximately attained. 
If, therefore, the theory which I intend to set before you for 
consideration may seem on first thought far-fetched and 
unsupported, I beg you to remember that in a field where 
but comparatively little is known with absolute certainty, 
it behooves us to take notice of all theories or conclusions 


33O t)w< the Genesis and the meaning oj j. it* 

which may be propounded, since., even though they may not 
contain the whole truth, they may, perhaps, contain certain 
germs of truth, which may contribute, in some measure, 
however slight, toward the ultimate solution of the problem 
under consideration. 

With these brief prefatory remarks, I shall forthwith 
enter into the discussion of the genesis and meaning of the 

I may say at once that this is not merely a theoretical 
and purely academic proposition which has no practical 
bearings in the way of prognosis and treatment. On the 
other hand, a real understanding of the nature, origin, and 
significance of the tics is of decided value in giving us proper 
standpoints and orientation with respect to the prevention, 
prognosis and cure of the condition. 

I need not enter into a description of the characteristics 
of tics in this place. I may merely mention that tics have 
two aspects a psychic and a physical. It is, in other words, 
a psychoneurosis. The characteristic mental state is one of 
doubt, of indecision, of inadequacy, of restlessness, of ten- 
sion, of discomfort and of dissatisfaction, ^Jvhich is more or 
less unappeasable and irrepressible and uncontrollable until 
it finds vent in a rather explosive series of motor expressions 
which, as it were, are the safety valve for the peculiar feeling 
of tension and discomfort which the individual has been 
experiencing and which is accompanied by a sense of relief, 
satisfaction and a relative degree of comfort and mental 
rest. The mental imperfection (Charcot) of the ticquer is a 
polymorphic psychic defect (Brissaud, Meige and Feindel) 
characterized by mental infantilism; for ticquers, like other 
psychoneurotics, are like big children. They have the 
mind of children, in respect to the emotional make-up. 

The mental condition of ticquers is especially charac- 
terized by the imperfection or weakness of volition, by a 
certain degree of mental instability and lack of inhibitory 
control of the desires, tendencies, activities and motor ex- 
pressions of the individual, this defect laying the ground- 
work for the impulsions and obsessions, as also for hysterical, 
so-called neurasthenic, hypochondriacal, depressive and so- 
called dementia praecox reactions. The tic movement is 

Meyer Solomon, M. D. 331 

the symbol of the psychic defect or degeneration or insta- 

The earlier investigators were responsible for the differ- 
entiation of the tics from such other conditions as Syden- 
ham's chorea, Huntington's chorea, the spasms, the stereo- 
typies, the habit movements, the myoclonias, and other 
allied conditions. It is due to their pioneer work that tics 
were recognized as a definite and distinct clinical entity. 
The process of disintegration of these various movements 
and their differentiation one from the other cannot be over- 
valued. Among those who have contributed most to this 
subject may be mentioned Magnan and his pupils, especially 
Saury and Legrain, Gilles de la Tourette, Letulle ? Guinon, 
Noir, Pitres, Cruchet, Grasset, Trousseau, Charcot, Brissaud, 
Meige and Feindel. Although Trousseau recognized that 
the ticquer was mentally abnormal, it -ftras Charcot who 
first called definite attention to the psychic origin of the 
condition and to the fact that tic was indeed a mental dis- 
order, a psychoneurosis, a psychomotor reaction. His lead 
was subsequently followed up by Brissaud, and by the lat- 
ter' s pupils Meige and Feindel, the latter two authors giving 
us a comprehensive discussion of the subject in their well- 
known classic. 1 More recently the Freudian school has 
attempted to dig down into the roots of the tree which 
ultimately sends forth its branches in the guise of tics. 


The usual conception of tics, as laid down by Brissaud, 
Meige and Feindel, 1 may be stated as follows: Tic move- 
ments are physiological acts which were originally functional 
and purposeful in character, but which have become habits, 
apparently purposeless and meaningless. The motor re- 
action is the result of some external stimulus or idea (normal 
or abnormal) or both, which originally was necessary for the 
production of the tic movement, which latter eventually 
became habitual and automatic, and, owing to repetition, 
was executed, even in the absence of the external stimulus or 

iTics and their treatment. English translation by S. A. K, Wilson. New 
ork, 1907. This book contains an extended bibliography. 

332 On the Genesis and the Meaning of Tics 

idea, without apparent purpose or meaning. At first bu 
little more than purposive habit movements, they finall; 
became irrepressible acts which sought for expression, whic] 
were but little under the control of the will, which occurre< 
in attacks varying in frequency, duration and severity 
which decreased under distraction and generally ceasec 
during sleep, which were increased in frequency and dura 
tion and severity by fatigue, emotional upset, mental unrest 
conflict and strain, while the lack of inhibition and wil 
power, the lack of self-control was the dominant menta 
state, leading to feelings of insufficiency, doubt, indecisioi 
and incapacity, and making the ground work for th< 
psychasthenic reactions in the form of morbid impulses anc 
obsessions, and for the hysterical, so-called neurasthenic anc 
other morbid psychic trends. 

The inherent or acquired neuropathic and psycho- 
pathic state is the basic condition which prepares the subsoil 

From a consideration of the motor symptom we maj 
say that it is but a pathological habit, which, however, is api 
to lead to the tendency toward or generation of an increasing 
number of such pathological habits. 

Characteristic of tics we may mention their being con- 
scious before and after but not during their execution, theii 
being disordered functional acts, their impetuous, irre- 
sistible demand for execution, the antecedent desire, and the 
subsequent satisfaction. 

The etiology of tics, as laid down byMeige and Feindel. 
may be summed up by stating that they occur most fre- 
quently in young subjects, less frequently in savages and 
animals than in the civilized, there is a psychic predisposi- 
tion based on heredity (of a similar or dissimilar neuropathy 
or psychopathy) upon which Charcot laid great stress, 
imitation (especially in the young) plays a role, as also brain 
fatigue (emotion, mental upset and worry) and indolence, 
with the frequent exciting cause of an external or internal 
stimulus or an idea, which is the explanation of the origin, 
source, situation and form of the tic or tics present in any 
particular case. 

Scattered references to emotional shock acting as a 
possible exciting cause of tics, as at times of obsessions, can 

Meyer Solomon., M. D. 333 

be found in the literature. Dupre 2 has made such reference. 
Meige and Feindel 3 themselves make the statement that 
"Fear may elicit a movement of defense, to persist as a tic 
after the exciting" cause has vanished. " They also state 
that "in ticquers the impulse to seek a sensation is common 
and also to repeat to excess a functional act. 5 ' 

Bresler 4 has called attention to the fact that the move- 
ments are in the nature of defensive and protective move- 
ments of expression and mimicry and originally in reaction to 
some external irritant or as the result of some idea, and he 
proposed the name "mimische Krampfneurose" for them. 
This is somewhat allied to Breuer and Freud's theory of 

The object of tic is some imaginary end, the influence of 
the will always being present in the beginning, although 
later it may be absent. Tics are of cortical origin, being co- 
ordinated and synergic, clonic or at times tonic f muscular 
movements, physiologically and not anatomically grouped, 
premeditated, purposive, of abnormal intensity, apparently 
causeless and inopportune. 

Insufficiency of inhibition is the cause of the beginning 
and of the persistence of bad habits and of tics. 

Tic is a sign of degeneration, in the biological and evolu- 
tionary sense, a degenerative neuropathic and psychopathic 
basis, as mentioned previously, being present, although often 

The maladie des tics is but the extreme form. 

The onset is as a rule insidious, with a tendency to 

Spontaneous cures may occur, while Gilles de la Tour- 
ette's disease is but the extreme form of a condition in which 
antagonistic gestures are frequently adopted by the patient 
to adapt himself and to get to a state of rest. 

This, as I see the situation, is as far as the French stu- 
dents of this subject (including Brissaud, Meige and Feindel, 
and even Janet) have permitted themselves to go. And, in 

2$oc. de Neur. de Paris, April 18, 1901, quoted by Meige and Feindel, page 54, 
of the English translation (reference i). 
3Loc. cit., p. 62. 

4Quoted by Meige and Feindel, Coc. cit., p. 267. 
f Cruchet objects to calling these tonic reactions tics. 

334 n the Genesis and the Meaning oj t ZGJ 

ray opinion, their observations and conclusions seem to be 
quite accurate, 


Recently the Freudian school has endeavored to pene- 
trate more deeply to the nucleus of the problem and to solve 
it. Freud has delimited what he calls obsessional or com- 
pulsion neurosis (Zwangsneurosis), which is classed under 
psychasthenia by the French and under neurasthenia by 
others. The Freudians regard this as a distinct neurosis,, 
sometimes complicated by neurasthenic or hysterical sym- 
toms. The characteristic symptom is a feeling of com- 
pulsion. The symptoms may be motor (obsessional act v s, 
impulsions)., sensory (obsessional hallucinations or sensa- 
tions), ideational (obsessions) , and affective (obsessive emo- 
tions, particularly doubt and fear). In this condition we 
find that there is an excessive psychical significance attached 
to certain thoughts. Obsessions are characterized by dissoci- 
ations from the main personality. They thuvS exist in the 
unconsciousness. The original unconscious mental processes 
have brought about, by displacement, an excess of psychical 
significance to these thoughts. Ernest Jones fi states that 
Freud found, by his work in psychoanalysis, that obsessions 
represented, symbolically, the return of self-reproaches of 
ancient, infantile and early childhood origin, which had 
been repressed and buried until the obsession made its ap- 
pearance. "They always refer to active sexual perform- 
ances or tendencies;" and, as Jones further explains, "there 
occurs early in life an exaggerated divorce between the in- 
stincts of hate and love, and the conflict and antagonism 
between the two dominate the most important reactions of 
the person. A fundamental state of doubt, an incapacity 
for decision, results from this paralyzing doubt. The patient 
oscillates between the two conditions of not being able to 
act (when he wants to), and of being obliged to act (when he 
doesn't want to). The symptom symbolizes the conflicting 
forces. These are not, as in hysteria, fused into a com- 

5 See his article on "The Treatment of the Psychoneuroses, " White and Jelliffe's. 
Modern Treatment of Nervous and Mental Diseases, Vol I, pp. 408-409. 

Meyer Solomon, M. D. 335 

promise-formation, but come to separate and alternating 
expression; one set of manifestations, therefore, symbolizes 
the repressed forces, another the repressing." 

To put the matter plainly, the Freudians contend that 
obsessions are symbolical representations of the repressed 
sexual activities and tendencies of infantile and early child- 
hood origin. It must be remembered that, the Freudians 
employ the term sexual in a very broad sense, including 
under it the most indirect and distant physical, mental and 
moral reverbations* conscious or " unconscious, ?? of the 
relations between the sexes. The sexual impulse is here 
conceived of as having incestuous, bisexual and polymor- 
phous perverse sexual tendencies. The word sexual is not 
only used as synonymous with love, but practically all emo- 
tional surgings, all feelings, all affectivity, all sense-cravings 
and bodily heavings are classed by certain members of the 
Freudian school as sexual. This latter interpretation and 
extension of the connotation generally accorded by us to 
the term sexual we surely have no right to give it. 

Clark, of New York City, is the author who has carried 
out the Freudian idea to its ultimate conclusion. I refer to 
his series of three papers in the Medical Record, and call 
particular attention to his last (third) paper in which he 
has fully elaborated his theory of the meaning of tics.f 

Clark's conception of the meaning of tic movements 
and of the mental state characteristic of ticquers must be 
here given. Although not denying the basic neurotic con- 
stitution present in ticquers, Clark sums up by giving the 
following definite and fully developed theory: 

"The ticquer has a strong sexual attachment; this is so 
strong that the love instinct ineffectually sublimates the 
hate instinct and in the warring conflict doubt and physical 
and psychic inadequacy arise. The situation continues and 
generates mental, and physical infantilism, which in turn 

6His three papers, which appeared in the Medical Record, New York, in the 
issues of February 7 and 28, and March 28, 1914, are entitled: (l) "Some Observa- 
tions upon the Etiology of Mental Torticollis;** (2) "A Further Study upon Mental 
Torticollis as a Psycho neurosis;" and (3) "Remarks upon Mental Infantilism in 
the Tic Neurosis.'* A fourth paper by Clark on tics appeared in the Medical 
Record of January 30, 1915. 

|J. Sadger has also come to similar conclusions. 

336 On the Genesis and the Meaning of Tics 

make for Increased feelings of tension. Motor and psychic 
restlessness succeed. The motor expression manifests itself 
most often in habit movements of disguised sexual signifi- 
cance (autoerogenous pleasures) a form of physical stcrco- 
typy, in its broadest psychophysical meaning. 'The mental 
state often pari passu takes up obsessive thinking and 
various physical acts and thoughts are formed as defense 
mechanisms, born of conscious guilt. The motor habits are 
usually inhibited or displaced in part, and the tic remains 
as a motor symbol, usually in itself non-sexual, us a fragment 
of the former complete habit movement. The mechanism 
of the completely evolved tic is cither a conversion (hysteric) 
or substitution (obsessive) mechanism or both." 

By these who have studied Frcudism this will, in a way, 
be understood. For these who have not it may be more 
difficult of understanding without somewhat further elabora- 
tion or explanation. In this connection I must again men- 
tion that the Freudians include tics under their obsessive 
(obsessional) neuroses. The theory of the mental mechan- 
isms and evolution of these states is given in the attached 
quotation, which is taken verbatim from Clark's paper- < 

"The affect of the painful idea does not become trans- 
formed into physical symptoms, as in the conversion mechan- 
ism of hysteria, but affixes itself to other ideas not in 
themselves unbearable, thus producing bythis false relation- 
ship a substitutive symptom or obsession. 

" . . . In all such obsessive neurotics the trans- 
formed reproaches which have escaped repressions are always 
connected with some pleasurably accomplished sexual act 
of childhood but may be almost entirely lost. The obsessive 
acts really represent the conflict between impulses of op- 
posite instincts, love and hate, which are usually of equal 
value. The warring conflict engendered makes for a curiosi- 
ty to discover the meaning of life forces (sexual largely) and 
the desire to know the end thereof. The nuclear-complex 
of all this is a precociousness of emotional life and an Intensive 
fixation on one or the other parent or brother or sister* 
The intensive love fixation waxes the stronger as the uncon- 
scious hate requires increased barriers against its breaking 
through into the main or everyday personality. As a result 

Meyer Solomon, M. D, 337 

of these conflicts the will is partially weakened, there is an 
incapacity for resolution, first in the realm of love alone; 
then later succeeds a diffusion or displacement of the mechan- 
ism all over the field of activity. A series of secondary 
defense mechanisms are now brought in and these may 
enable the obsessive person to get square in a limited way 
(as religious practices enable many to do). Some special 
adaptation is required sooner or later, and the individual, 
having used up all the helps, then falls back upon the differ- 
ent forms of obsessive acts and thinking. Thus the ob- 
sessive neurosis is generated." 

Clark then proceeds to explain: 

"If one is not permitted to draw deductions from a few 
data as to the further genesis of the tic disorders, we may 
still hold out a tentative hypothesis, pieced together from 
many sources that a certain type of nervous make-up is 
inherited. In such the emotional life is precocious much 
beyond the intellectual faculties. The ticquer in infancy 
has the emotional feelings of love and hate of an adult. Their 
very precociousness aids the parental fixation and adhesion, 
and makes it the more difficult for the libido to detach itself 
at the proper age. One should bear in mind that the parental 
fixation in itself does not directly produce the mishaps of 
adult life but this small fault in infancy generates wider and 
wider maladaptations as development progresses. It is 
these latter glaring faults and trends that make for the 
character defects, and these really break down the final 
effort at adaptations and adjustments producing the tic or 
obsessive disorder. But the essential nucleus of the defect 
is lack of balance, precocious parental fixation, and con- 
tinued attachment to the parent-stem, that makes the adult 
defect possible. The very infantile precociousness of the 
emotions argues for the hereditary transmission of destruc- 
tive temperamental qualities. Here, as elsewhere in tracing 
hereditariness in so-called functional nervosities, one should 
take as the unit character for study the mental traits or 
trends and exclude definite disease entities applied to ances- 
tral disorders. I believe it is not too suppositious to think 
that many of these variant individuals are really atavistic 
in makeup and have continued from one generation to 

On the Genesis and the Meaning of Tics 

another special defective traits of emotional makeup which 
are fortunately denied the average individual. 1 " 

The writer cannot understand how the theory which he 
has taken the trouble to so fully present in the above quota- 
tions can be maintained. Jones and Clark both assert that 
the tics or habit spasms as probably of the same nature as 
the obsessions in general/ Moreover, Jones agrees that 
"familiar examples of compulsion in a slight degree are the 
obsessive impulses to touch every other rail of an iron fence 
as one walks past, to step on the cracks between the flag- 
stones of the pavement, or not to step on them, and so on. 1 * 
A little reflection will show us the impossibility and illogical- 
ity of viewing all these conditions as being fundamentally of 
sexual origin. Let us follow the argument. If tics are of 
sexual derivation, as the Freudians here openly maintain, 
then it must follow that those familiar examples of compul- 
sion, such as the obsessive impulse to touch every other 
post, etc., are likewise of sexual origin. This conclusion Is 
forced upon us, since, even according to Jones, the only 
difference between the marked tics and the lesser manifesta- 
tions is one of degree.* Now, these slighter impulsive 
tendencies to which we have here referred are very frequent 
in all children and by no means infrequent in grown-ups. 
They are habitual movements, which may be of transient 
duration only or may, by repeated performance, develop 
into more or less fixed habits. If, then, these habits are of 
sexual significance, it must follow that all other habits, 
especially if associated with a certain degree of consciousness 
or awareness, are in like manner symbolical of the past in- 
fantile and early childhood sexual activities and tendencies. 
This conclusion is, as is seen, inevitable, if we believe in the 
Freudian theory of the pathogenesis of the tics. However, 
since this leads us to a reductio ad absurdum, we must, of 
course, reject the explanation which has been offered by the 
Freudian school. 

Perhaps I should also mention the fact that all of these 
symptoms or tendencies which one finds in ticquers occur 

*The accompanying mental state characteristic of ticquers is absentia habjts, 
We can stop doing the latter when our attention is directed to them; not so in tics. 
Meige and Feindel have discussed these and other differences, 

Meyer Solomon, M. D. 339 

in other individuals who do not present tics; and, further- 
more, that all normal individuals possess these qualities or 
tendencies in varying degrees of intensity and in varying 
combinations, and that this applies to adults as well as to 
children, although, of course, they are seen most characteris- 
tically in children. I may further add that the difference 
between the mental infantilism which we find present in the 
tic psychoneurosis and that which we observe in other (nor- 
mal and abnormal) conditions is one of degree rather than of 
kind. Therefore, the most we can say of the mental con- 
dition in ticquers is that there is an exaggeration of the 
mental infantilism or a fixation at or tendency toward re- 
gression to this type of thinking or of reaction. And this 
leads us to the further conclusion and it is this point which 
I desire to bring out in this connection namely, that since 
the difference between the mental infantilism in all of these 
conditions is relative, being one of degree and of proportion- 
ate relationship or at any rate of genesis, evolution and 
meaning, it naturally follows that what is in the conclusions 
of Clark, as mentioned above, asserted to be an absolute 
and basic principle or truth applicable to- the tics, must 
consequently be true, but in different degree, of all the other 
conditions of a similar or allied nature. Surely the motive 
source is fundamentally the same in all of these conditions. 

Furthermore, tics occur in animals, especially in horses; 
and the whole picture, physical and mental, of tics in horses 
resembles that which we find in human beings, particularly 
idiots and imbeciles, with tics. And the ultimate, funda- 
mental meaning and motive source of tics in man is and 
must be the same as that of tics in horses. 

To put Clark's idea in a nut-shell, it may be said 
that he believes that the primary purpose of tics is 
not that of a protective, defense mechanism against un- 
pleasant situations in life but that of obtaining really 
pleasurable gratifications to the psyche, these auto-pleasur- 
able acts being based on inherent defects and having a 
sexual significance in the sense in which sexuality is con- 
ceived by Freud- The protective, defense mechanism is, 
according to this view, but secondary to the primary and 

340 O n the Genesis and the Meaning of Tics 

fundamental purpose of obtaining the autopleasurable grati- 
fications to the psyche. 

Although approving of the analytic and genetic ten- 
dency displayed by Freud, Clark and the Freudian school 
in general, it is regrettable to me that the analytic tendency 
and reconstructive efforts of the Freudians in the field of 
neurology and psychopathology have been seriously marred 
by their insistence on forcing all observed physical and 
psychical phenomena and reactions into line with their 
fixed sexual theories and their special psychology, which is 
basically wrong in many fundamental and important stand- 

The writer will agree with the Freudians that there must 
be a cause for the appearance of these tics. This cause 
existed in the past. It has in the course of time been for- 
gotten, but still exists somewhere in the subconsciousncss or 
memory. This forgetting has been brought about by a 
process of dissociation from the original exciting cause. 
But the writer will not agree that this dissociation has been, 
of necessity, brought about by psychic repression on the 
part of the individual, that by psychoanalysis the condition 
can be traced back to the sexual activities or tendencies of 
infantile or early childhood origin, or that the condition may 
be cured when the original cause is made known to the 
patient through psychoanalysis, without the training of the 
will so necessary in this condition. 

Thus the analytic tendency of the PYeuclian school is to 
be highly commended. But this analysis should not; be 
limited to sexual analysis, but should include a consideration 
of all of man's instincts. Nor should the analysis be limited 
to present-life psychic factors alone, but should he viewed 
from a psychobiological standpoint. In this way only will 
all antecedent causative factors physical and mental- -be 
included in our analytic observation and speculation* 

To fully discuss or to prove the error of Clark in his 
conclusions would necessarily lead me into a general dis- 
cussion of Freudism, which I cannot do in this- place, since 
the ramifications are too numerous and the problems in- 
volved would lead to lengthy and tiresome discussion, pro 
and coti. I must, however, mention the exclusively sexual 

Meyer Solomon^ M* D. 341 

standpoint assumed by the Freudian school in their inter- 
pretations of physical and psychical activities, their classi- 
fying of all activities characterised by a certain rhythmicity 
and periodicity, and accompanied by a certain decree of 
satisfaction- in other words of all autopleasurable activi- 
ties- -as sexual (in the Freudian sense), and the neglect of 
comparative and behavioristic psychology with proper con- 
sideration for man's phylogeny and ontogeny or of his true 
genetic history, from the racial and world history and not 
alone from the individualistic psychological standpoint. 
As a matter of fact the conception of sexuality assumed by 
Freud and his followers has undergone many changes and 
is by no means definite and clean cut in its outlines. A 
criticism of the conception of sexuality cannot be entered 
upon here. 1 may merely state that what is an absolute and 
fixed law for the tics, what is the fundamental and basic 
explanation or theory of the genesis and meaning of the 
tics must apply also to all habit movements wherever and 
whenever they occur, and, in like manner, to all habit forma- 
tions of whatever nature. And since our habits are but the 
prolongations of our instincts,, the latter also would be in- 
cluded within the purview of the same generalisation. Tn 
other words, if all tics have a sexual meaning, then all in- 
stincts, which means the vital energy of man, has the snme 
meaning. This question I have discussed in another place* 
and cannot enter upon here. 

Without fruther elaboration or discussion I am content 
to give the* Freudian conception to you as I have outlined it 
above and to let it stand for what it- is worth. 

I may say that in the physical aspect of tics we have* a 
specific somatic manifestation which, if explained, should, 
in a way, be the gateway toward the understanding of the 
many somatic symptoms which we find in the psycho- 
rieu roses and psychoses. 


A year or more* before Clark's paper appeared, I had 

/A Critical Review of the Conception of Sexuality Assumed! by the Freudian 
School. Medical Record, March 27, 1915* 

34 2 On the Genesis and the Meaning of Tics 

arrived at certain general conclusions regarding- lhc k subject 
of tics, 

G. Stanley Hall has arrived at similar conclusions in 
his inspiring Synthetic Genetic Study of Fear* and I wish here 
to acknowledge my indebtedness to his paper for making 
my own ideas clearer to me, for having given me broader 
standpoints and for clearly presenting a theory which shall 
form the basis of the remainder of this paper. 

Let us first take up the tic movements and see whether 
we can arrive at a rational explanation for their appearance. 

The different varieties of tic movements embrace the 
entire field or range of systematic, physiologically co-ordi- 
nated voluntary muscular activities. 

The main types of tics may be enumerated at this 
point; facial tics, which are the most Frequent and which 
may be tonic or clonic, are tics of mimicry and express emo- 
tions; tics of the ear or auditory tics; nictitation and vision 
tics, particularly of the eyelids; tics of sniffing; tics of suck- 
ing; tics of licking; tics of biting and of mastication, and 
mental trismus; tics of nodding, tossing, affirmation, nega- 
tion, salutation and mental torticollis; trunk, arm and 
shoulder tics; snatching tics; the professional or occupational 
spasms, which are really a special atypical form of tics; 
walking and leaping tics; tics of spitting, swallowing, vomit- 
ing, eructation and wind sucking (aerophagia) ; tics of snor- 
ing, sniffing, blowing, whistling, coughing., sobbing, hic- 
coughing; tics of speech, including all sorts of sounds, .stam- 
mering (in some cases), habit expressions, ccholalia and 

It is thus seen that we have here physiological and 
biological acts of different manifestations and purposes. 

The tic movements have a certain significance at the 
time of their performance. The physiological functions are 

^ The Magnan school insisted that tics arc not morbid 
entities but episodic syndromes of mental degeneration. 
Charcot referred to tic as a sort of hereditary aberration, 
which, I may add, is surely true when we view it from the 

Bin the American Journal of Psychology, VoL XXV, in the July issue et $eq, 

Meyer Solomon, A/. I). 343 

phylogenetic standpoint, as representing a resurrection of 
what was at one time a normal tendency or reaction. Noir 
lias called attention to the fact that the movements found 
in the tics correspond to the infant's spontaneous muscular 
play, which means the muscular play of all mankind. 

These authors were directing their efforts in the right 
direct ioni To appreciate this we need hut remember that 
the mechanisms or the potentialities for the movements are 
inherited and have* a phylogenetic significance. At a lower 
psychic level, far back in our phylogenetic racial history, 
all of these movements, perhaps then in a rudimentary 
form, had a single, original meaning. This meaning was self- 
preservation, and it was because of its value as a moans of 
adaptation or reaction to the environment, with the conse- 
quent maintenance of self-preservation,, that the movements 
or the mechanisms of the movements were selected for 
survival and for hereditary transmission as inherent, uncon- 
scious, organic mechanisms, processes or engrains- The 
original, phylogenetic significance attained at a low cultural 
or psychic level, relatively unconscious, may or may not 
later be consciously associated or dominate 4 its subsequent 
functioning. But its primary, biological significance, its 
real raison d j clrc is to be found in the* phylogenetie, racial 
history of man. The present life history with its varied 
experiences do but act as stimuli or as exciting factors to 
bring once* more into activity functions which have been 
preserved in the organic structure of the nervous system. 

In our return to phylogenetic, ontogenetic, rudimen- 
tary, unconscious, organic reactions, to atavistic, prehistoric, 
performed, embryonic, immature methods of response, the 
vestigial remnants, revivals of long ago, which have been 
submerged but which now reappear duo to our reversionary 
tendencies- uprooted by dissociation, disintegration or re- 
gression, with its lapse or descent to low cultural or psychic 
levels these old components which reappear or rather fall 
apart and appear as independent activities, are exaggerated, 
inflated, caricatured or excessively performed- Tn tmr dc~ 
volutionary tendency toward ancestral methods of reaction, 
the individual, resolved, so to speak, into his proximate 
elements, permits or is compelled by biological determinism 

344 @ n th- e Genesis and the Meaning of Tics 

to permit these split off tendencies to break forth once more, 
albeit in exaggerated fashion, as if let loose from the leash 
of control by the higher nervous centres, and reanimified, 
intensified, and magnified, our infantile, archaic, instinctive, 
inherited, hidden, phylogenetic tendencies or activities held 

It seems to me that it is well worth while to quote at 
some length from G. Stanley Hall, that great exponent of 
genetic psychology and all that it. stands for. Mis very 
stimulating and inspiring paper on fear, to which I have 
already referred, is freely quoted in the following para- 

According to gcncticism, Stanley Mall tells us, all 
responses to shock are vestiges of once useful reactions. 
In fact, the shock neuroses and shock psychoses, if analyz- 
able psychogenetically, "would be found to be reversions to, 
and also perhaps more often than we suspect, magnifications 
of acts and psychic states that were at one time the fittest 
of which our forebears were capable. 9 1 lowever, all the 
pathological phenomena of today are not mere revivals of the 
acts and states of primitive man and his ancestors, but "they 
are often, on the other hand, grotesque variants and intensi- 
fications of phylogenetic originals that were more sane and 
simple if also more generic* Shock symptoms may thus 
be symbols of long past racial experiences which when we 
have learned to interpret them more fully will tell us much 
of the early history of our phylum." 10 It is the outbreaks 
of emotion which "mark the incursions of the race into the 
narrow life of the individual." 11 

Furthermore, "the central nervous system differs from 
all others in that it is par excellence the organ of registration 
and of physiological memory* ft is there that the traces of 
ancestral experience are stored so that almost nothing that 
was ever essential in the development of the phylum is ever 
entirely lost. Hence suggestive as are many physical traits 
of our racial history, the intangible psychophysic traits 

9Loc. cit., pp. 178-179. 
loLoc. cit., p. 179. 
nLoc. cit,, p. 183. 

Meyer Solomon, M. D. 345 

must be assumed to be both far more numerous and more 

"While these faint tendencies often crop out in a be- 
havtoristie way, by far the most of them need some stimulus 
of individual experiences to awaken them., and still more 
exist only in the slight facilitixation of impulses or per- 
me^bility of nervous centres, lability of molecular or neural 
tensions, or as preferential re-enforcements, in one rather 
than in another direction or manner. " ia 

ft is obvious that motor expressions of shock or motor 
methods of adaptation or reaction are much older and far 
more prominent: than psychic. But although a changed 
environment made the old types of defense obsolete, they 
still persist:, "in a sthenic if somewhat now inco-ordinatecl 
way, and when they are called into action now they evoke a 
faint, phosphorescence of the old primordial feeling. ?M! * 

In brief it should be said that no matter how retimed 
and how highly cultured we arc*, we still fear and react to 
emotions '"in the same terms of the same old gross organs 
and functions as do the brutes." 1 ' 1 


As I have slated in a previous paper, ir> the pathogenesis 
of tics and allied conditions can best be appreciated by 
viewing the subject from an evolutionary standpoint. In 
our reactions and adaptations to the varying experiences 
with which we meet we respond by one or more of several 
methods of motor reaction. These motor expressions are of 
increasing complexity as we ascend the scale of evolution 
and development. One of the simplest kinds of adaptation 
is by simplc k , reflex musuclar action, the* response being ana- 
tomical and not physiological in its extent* Then come 
our simple physiological reactions. A more complex reac- 
tion is by those: physiologically co-ordinated motor reactions 
or movements which go to comprise our pantomimic move- 
ments. This is seen most characteristically in our facial 

i2lioc. ch., p. 351-352. 

13 hoc. eh., p. 197. 

1 4]. oc. cit., p. 197. 

i^TU'K. InU'nUute Medical Journal, January and February, 

346 On the Genesis and ike Meaning of Tics 

expressions, gestures, mimicry and dancing. Still higher up 
in the scale we find our conduct and feelings as exemplified 
in our speech. And finally, highest of all, we must place 
our conduct as shown in written or printed language. This 
is a brief outline of our evolutionary and developmental 
ascent and of the increasing complexity and refinement 
of our social conduct. 

In our motor adaptations we respond in one or more of 
these ways. When for some reason or another one outlet 
us denied us, we find avenues of expression through one 
or more of the other paths. Now, the manner and degree of 
our response is dependent on our stage in evolution and 
development, on the development of our senses, on our 
instincts, feelings and emotions, on our intellect and ex- 
periences. Unable to find expression by means of writing 
or speech, we instinctively fall back upon and seek expres- 
sion by a less refined method, one earlier acquired and thus 
lower in the scale of evolution. This has a more or less 
general application throughout the scale of human (individ- 
ual and social) conduct. It is an application of the universal 
law of adaptation to existing conditions in the best manner 
possible under the circumstances. We may thus lay down 
in a general sort of way a conception which I like to call the 
theory of psychophysical progression, fixation and regression 
along evolutionary and developmental lines. In the case 
of tics the regressive or devolutionary aspect comes in 
for special consideration. We may react mainly physically, 
or mainly psychically. But as a rule we react by both physi- 
cal and psychic means., the manner and degree of our con- 
duct being determined, as above mentioned, by our stage 
in evolution and development. 

How does all this preliminary and general discussion 
apply to the problem of the tics? The relation seems to me 
to be most intimate and most important. The tics are 
methods of response or reaction to certain external irritations 
or ideas, this response being the manner of adaptation. 
The response may be mainly motor or mainly psychic, most 
frequently psychomoton When the source of irritation and 
the cause for action is known, our conduct is more specific 
and is apt to be less diffuse, less inadequate, less indefinite. 

Meyer Solomon, M. D. 347 

In our reactive adaptations, which, as explained above, are 
greatly dependent upon our psychophysical make-up or 
constitution, we protect ourselves consciously or more or 
less unconsciously against disagreeable, inimicable, unpleas- 
ant or irritating environmental factors, physical or psychical., 
by bringing into activity certain psychical or physical or 
psychophysical reactions or processes. The special defense 
reactions brought into the foreground are those which follow 
the line of least resistance, due to hereditary or environ- 
mental construction, or are those which "were most intensely 
stimulated or irritated and the most biologically useful and 
adaptive at the particular moment or under the special 
circumstances. The young child's reactions are preponder- 
ately motor, or at any rate psychomotor and not purely 
psychic* When there are sources of irritation or bodily or 
mental discomfort, there is a more or less general bodily 
reaction, psychophysical in nature. When the irritation is 
definite and clearly recognized by the child, the local motor 
response is also apt to be definite. When, on the other 
hand, the irritation is but vaguely perceived and not clearly 
appreciated or localized, we find that the child may show a 
general diffuse reaction, or even, in some cases, a reaction 
limited to certain regions as determined by the reaction 
taking place along the line of least resistance. This is 
plainly seen in the conduct of the physically sick child. 
Every pediatrician will find ample proof in support of this 
statement in his observations of the defensive reactions of 
the ill child. 

When this irritation along a certain nerve path is oft 
repeated or quite constant, we have a consequent repetition 
of the defensive reaction, whatever it may be. This per- 
formance may be so frequently repeated that the idea of 
irritation or mental conflict or the anticipation or the expecta- 
tion of a repetition of same may be quite sufficient in itself 
to arouse this reaction. It may become so habitual that, 
even though no such idea be in the mind, there may be a 
repetition of the movement whenever the individual is 
nervously excited or upset, whenever there is any mental 
stress, strain or discomfort. And we may go even further 
and say that as a result of some unusual mental struggle, 

348 On the Genesis and the Meaning of Tics 

some excessive mental strain, defense or adaptation is 
brought about by regression or resort to a tic, this being 
conditioned by the fact that for the particular individual 
under discussion this is the easiest, most convenient or most 
immediate form of reactive response. The discharge is, as 
is seen, along the line of least resistance. This line of least 
resistance is determined by the organic nervous constitution 
and by certain life-experiences or habit-formation factors. 
In some cases the movement, once initiated, may be con- 
tinued long after the disappearance or cessation of the 
external irritation, because of the sense of relief or satisfac- 
tion or pleasuref which is obtained by the performance of 
.the tic. In many instances the habit has become rather 
fixed, and, as a relief from the struggle to do or not to do 
the movement, and because of fatigue in the effort to inhibit 
or control the movement, the individual adopts the path of 
least resistance, best for immediate relief from mental 
struggle; and as a psychobiological effort at self-preservation 
and self-gratification, as immediately as possible and at any 
cost to be paid in the future, he gives vent, as it were, to the 

The psychic symptoms may come on at a later date 
than the motor symptoms or simultaneously, although, of 
course, the early life history, in childhood and puberty, for 
example, if we are dealing with an adult, may show, at least 
in a certain proportion of cases, that the individual was of a 
psychopathic type, perhaps somewhat shut-in or asocial. 
If the appearance of the psychical symptoms be simultaneous 
with that of the physical symptoms, we can understand at 
once how, like the motor symptoms, they may be repeated 
time and again. In many instances, at least, the psychic 
symptoms arise later, being added to the motor symptoms. 
These later psychic symptoms may be a direct reaction to the 
source of irritation, or may be occasioned by the dissatisfac- 
tion at being unable to control the movement in question. 

The degree of reaction, its duration and severity, depend 
upon the hereditary and developmental make-up of the 
individual and the severity, frequency and duration of the 

fThis is not, of course, of a sexual nature, the Freudian school notwith- 

Meyer Solomon^ M. D. 349 

irritation, physical or psychical. The psychic element is 
particularly apt to vary. The more neuropathic and psy- 
chopathic the make-up the greater is the reaction. 

Where mental enfeeblement or mental disorder exist, 
the severity and chronicity are apt to be still greater. 

There is thus a fixation, or rather a regression or rever- 
sion, oft repeated, to a type of reaction of a very infantile, 
primitive sort, farther down in the scale of evolution and 

This picture may be further complicated by so-called 
neurasthenic, psychasthenic, hysterical or other reactions. 
Naturally one would expect to find these conditions, especial- 
ly the more aggravated forms, in individuals of a neuropathic 
and psychopathic family strain, and who themselves are 
neuropathic or psychopathic or both. 

It may be mentioned here, as is clearly appreciated 
from what has been said before, that there is an inter-rela- 
tionship between the tics on the one hand and the symptoms 
which we discover in the psychoneuroses, psychoses and the 
mentally unstable on the other. 

In all of these conditions we find a cortical origin for 
the disturbance, there is a lack of will power, of inhibition 
and of control of the lower centres, there is a nervous and 
mental instability with a tendency toward regression or 
dissociation, and the assumption of more or less independent, 
almost automatic activity, this activity being characterized 
by its almost (relatively) infantile, primitive, archaic make- 

Were I to take up any one of the tics as an illustration, 
this general idea could be applied very nicely. But I shall 
not present any illustrative cases in this paper. I shall leave 
it to the reader, however, to explain the genesis and evolu- 
tion of, for example, facial tics (which are so common) from 
this standpoint. 

In passing I may say that the tic movements may have 
a special, individual, psychological significance. But this 
is by no means necessarily so. Frequently, I am inclined 
to believe usually, these movements result rather merely 
because there has been effected a psychobiological reaction, 
following the theory of psychophysical progression* fixation 

3 So On the Genesis and the Meaning of Tics 

and regression with involvement of the nervous paths most 
seriously affected or most easily disturbed. 

In the case of the tics, therefore, it is as if the various 
tic movements are being used in reaction to or in adaptation 
to sources of internal or external, physical or mental irrita- 
tion, for the protection, defense or self-preservation of this 
or that particular part of the nervous system as if the 
movements which we find in the tics and which are the ex- 
pressions of certain engrams, neurograms, mnemes or organic 
memories, are existing in and for themselves, except that, 
in the tics, they are reacting with and for the psychophysical 
organism, the organic make-up or personality. 

The individual, as a biological unit, is reacting to the 
particular situation which presents itself by the tic mechan- 

By granting the phylogenetic, racial significance we also 
give the basic, psychophysical meaning of tics in all ticquers. 


How is it that these activities may come into play again ? 
What brings them to the surface once more? 

There are many factors which come in for consideration 
in this connection. In the first place the basic cause is the 
instinctive, organic, psychophysical make-up of the individ- 
ual. Whether and which functions re-exist as of old and 
respond a means of adaptation and self-preservation, 
depends on the stability and the weaknesses or defects of the 
nervous mechanism or system with its various parts, sys- 
tems, functions or inherent psychophysical dispositions on 
the one hand, and the life-experiences and the immediate 
inciting factor on the other hand. 

A neuropathic or psychopathic or neuropsychopathic 
constitution with its usual causes (germinal, intrauterine or 
extrauterine, usually of a toxic, infectious or disturbed 
metabolic nature, and including particularly alcohol, syphilis 
and nutritional disorders) may form the ground work. 
This predisposition may be congenital that is, present from 
the date of birth, although not necessarily germinal in origin, 
or it may be acquired at some period in life from physical or 

Meyer Solomon, M. ZX 351 

psychic causes. In this connection the infantile and early 
childhood history are very important. Consequently the 
diseases, training, example, education and opportunities in 
childhood and infancy are of very great significance, the 
parental training and example and the home conditions 
having a most intimate relationship to the development of 
many of these tics. Imitation and mimicry here play a 
decided role. Spoiled children, too quickly satisfied or over 
repressed, are apt to develop tics. External somatic irrita- 
tions may be the starting point in some (not in all) cases. 
At other times an idea (normal or abnormal) may incite the 
tic movements. Auto and hetero-suggestion, hypochondria- 
cal ideas, hysterical symptoms and obsessions may, particu- 
larly in adults, initiate tics. Obsessions are especially apt 
to produce habits or tics, if they produce any motor reaction. 
Tics may develop into" obsessions and vice versa; or both may 
co-exist simultaneously and be unrelated. The original 
ideas which led to the movements vanish while the move- 
ments survive. In the insane various sorts of delusions may 
be the groundwork on which a tic may later develop. Habit 
movements, which represent purposive physiological acts 
which have become automatic and not inhibited (hence 
showing weak will power) and which seek strongly for expres- 
sion, which the individual struggles against and endeavors 
consciously to inhibit and overcome after the tendency is 
fairly well developed, may eventually become impulsive 
and irresistible with the ultimate evolution of the psychic 
state which is characteristic of ticquers. Automatic habits 
and mannerisms or stereotyped acts are of course not tics 
but the latter are but caricatures of the former with an added 
characteristic mental state. Tics, as mentioned earlier in 
this paper, are thus pathological habits. 

Tics may also be but the symbol for a vague feeling of 
tension, irritation or stimulation, which seeks relief or expres- 
sion by the performance of the tic. 

Emotional stress and strain, fright, fear, excitement and 
mental shock can arouse a tic. Mental conflict and unrest 
has not received that degree of attention which it surely 
deserves. Clark and the Freudian school have definitely 
called our attention to this aspect. Bresler refers to tic as a 

On the Genesis and the Meaning of Tics 

motor reaction to original mental shock, so that it is in fact 
a psychic defense reaction of expression. Dupre has stated 
that emotional shock may act as a possible exciting cause of 
tics, as at times of obsessions. Meige and Feindel have 
asserted that fear may excite a movement of defense, and 
although the exciting cause has vanished, this movement 
may continue to persist as a tic. They also mention that 
in ticquers we frequently find the impulse to seek a sensation 
and to repeat to excess a functional act. 

That there is a weakness of will power in the ticquer, 
with a lack of control or inhibition over the lower neurones 
normally regulated by the higher co-ordinating centres, so 
that certain automatic activities become dissociated and 
exist more or less independently, is generally acknowledged. 

In fact it must be said that tics are reactions of the 
organism, of the organic make-up, the psychophysical per- 
sonality, as a response to irritation, excitation or stimula- 
tion, sensory, nervous or psychic. It is a means of relief of 
tension, of organic reaction or adaptation, not necessarily 
conscious but frequently unconscious and automatic, as in 
fear. Starting in this way it may persist. In the tic we 
see a method by which the individual or organic personality 
has met a certain difficult or undesirable or disturbing situa- 
tion. It is thus a constitutional, biological defense reaction, 
psychophysical in nature, with a reversionary tendency 
(when viewed from the evolutionary standpoint), and hence 
is indicative of degeneration, this term being used in the 
racial, biological, phylogenetic and ontogenetic sense. 

There is not such a far cry from the simplest tic to 
'Gilles de la Tourette's disease or maladie des tics with its 
more pronounced signs of psychophysical deterioration and 
dissociation. The tendency is a degenerative one a pro- 
lapse to ancestral methods of reaction, a dissociation or dis- 
integration of the personality, a lack of control over more 
elementary activities. We should therefore appreciate the 
need of early recognition and treatment of tics and fixed 
habit movements, especially .since there is a tendency to 
spread, for the tics to multiply, and for mental symptoms 
and reactions of a hysterical and psychasthenic nature to 

Meyer Solomon, M. D. 353 

appear, if they do not already exist or have not existed before 
the onset of the tic. 

In brief, then, tics represent the emotional reactions and 
feelings of the individual the loves and the hates, the likes 
and the dislikes, the wishes and the fears, the cravings and 
the dissatisfactions, the bodily and mental tension, unrest, 
excitement, discomfort and disequilibration. In other words 
the ticquer feels and speaks and acts by the tic. He lives 
by, in and for his tic. He is attempting to meet certain 
situations of a disturbing nature and to obtain equilibrium 
and equipoise by compensating for his feelings of inefficiency 
and unrest by the tics. It is an organic, constitutional, 
psychophysical, biological means of adaptation. 


We now come to the progressive evolution of the motor 
manifestations and to the mental aspect of this condition. 

Concerning the mental state characteristic of the ticquer 
it is generally agreed that there is a polymorphic psychic 
defect or disorder which shows itself particularly in a preco- 
cious or hyperemotional condition, in a lack of will power 
and of inhibitory control, leading to a state and feeling of 
doubt, indecision, incapacity, insufficiency and unreality, of 
inferiority and self-depreciation, with a tendency towards 
morbid self-absorption, egocentricity, self-observation., auto- 
and hetero-suggestion, with the consequent development in 
many instances of so-called neurasthenic, psychasthenic, hys- 
teric and various psychotic reactions. I am not prepared 
to say definitely how frequently the mental state, in lessened 
degree, precedes the outbreak of the tic movements. This 
may be present in a certain proportion of cases, but is by no 
means always present and it is even questionable whether 
the piredisposition'al mental condition is the ground work in 
the majority of patients. 

Tics, it is true, are especially apt to develop in individuals 
with a neuropathic or psychopathic history or heredity. 
In other cases this history is not obtainable, the individual 
having been apparently perfectly normal up to the time of 
the outcropping of the tic. In these cases shock is apt to 

354 On the Genesis and the Meaning of Tics 

bring on the outbreaks and so one may say that the instabil- 
ity had been latent and that a severe shock was sufficient to 
bring it to the surface. We must remember, in all these 
cases, that the mental state which we see in the ticquer is 
but an exaggeration of that which appears in many children, 
and is similar to that which appears also in other psycho- 
neurotic states, and in fact the germs of this condition may 
occur transiently in any of us. This psychic condition may 
frequently but does not always precede the appearance of the 
tic movement* But it is only after the appearance of the 
motor manifestations of tic that the mental state becomes 
prominent or develops where it was not noticeable if not 
absent before. 

Be that as it may, or even granting that in most patients 
the characteristic mental state or the neuropathic or psycho- 
pathic make-up exists in some measure to an abnormal 
extent, we do know that once the tic movements have made 
their appearance and begin to spread, so that the individual 
is thrown into the struggle to perform or not to perform the 
movement, the development of the psychic state which we 
find so patent in the more pronounced forms of tic, there- 
after more or less rapidly occurs, no matter what the mental 
condition of the ticquer may have been previously. I am 
also not prepared to discuss here at any length the phylo- 
genetic or ontogenetic significance and the biological genesis 
and meaning of the various mental trends of the ticquer, 
but I may say that they too have been acquired in the course 
of evolution, for certain very definite reasons which need not 
concern us here, although it can be appreciated that the 
biological motive of self-preservation played a most impor- 
tant role in their genesis and fixation. 


TO Tics 

The progressive spreading of the tic movement which 
so commonly occurs, as well as the evolution of the mental 
aspect w;hich develops subsequent to the appearance of the 
tic movement, may be very nicely understood if we adopt, 

Meyer Solomon^ M. D. 355 

for our present purposes the recent theories of Alfred Adler, 16 
of Vienna, concerning the makeup and development of the 
neurotic. This we may do without committing ourselves, 
at this moment, one way or the other, with regard to the 
correctness or incorrectness of Adler's views as applied in 
toto to the neurotic. 

One should note that Meige and Feindel were, in a way, 
on the threshold of this theory when they said that tic, 
like the other psychoneuroses, is due to some congenital 
anomaly, an arrest or defect in the development of cortical 
or subcortical association paths unrecognized teratological 

In a very few words Adler's theory may be given as 
follows: Adler assumes that there is definite somatic inferior- 
ity (based on anatomical and physiological changes) as the 
basis or foundation for the neurotic soil. The neurotic con- 
sciously comes to realize the unconscious, organic, somatic 
inferiority, and the endeavor to effect a psychic compensa- 
tion or to make up for these organic deficiencies by certain 
definite mechanisms, frequently results in an overreaction or 
over-compensation. He thus overdoes himself in efforts to 
make up for his inferiority, and in these endeavors he neces- 
sarily makes use of unusual means and devices. It is this 
effort -which is the great motive force -which dominates the 
life activities of the individual and which compels him to 
seek as his ultimate object or final goal a state which is best 
described as one of complete masculinity, of full manhood, of 
self-maximization, of the will to live, to become powerful 
and to seek supremacy or "the will to power 73 (Nietzsche). 
In following this goal he goes to extremes and employs peculiar 
methods and devices, most of which have for their object 
the concealment of his defects, and it is these overcompensa- 
tory efforts and these peculiar devices resorted to, which go 
to form the peculiarities or traits of the neurotic. Accord- 
ing to Adler* s theory, the conscious efforts of the individual 
for psychic compensation or overcompensation (for the 
unconscious, organic deficiencies) leads to a resulting feeling 
of insufficiency, of incompleteness, of inferiority, of unreality, 

i6Ueber den Nervosen Charakter, 1912. See also Adler's Studie xiber Min- 
derwertigkeit von Organen, 1907. 

356 On the Genesis and the Meaning of Tics 

of anxiety, of inability to face reality. Thus the mental 
symptoms or characteristic mental state, being but the con- 
scious recognition of the unconscious inferiority, become 
especially pronounced when there is a failure of compensa- 
tion, or, in other words, when the individual is unable to 
meet with, or adapt to the situation which at the moment 
presents itself. In these forced efforts at defense and com- 
pensation there is a resort or regression to older, infantile, 
child-like, archaic types of reaction, of a physical or mental 
nature, which are thus the protective defense mechanisms or 
symbols. The struggle of the neurotic consists particularly 
in the conscious appreciation of his goal and of his deficiencies 
of makeup and in the attempt to reach his goal of full man- 
hood and self-maximization in spite of his handicapping 

Without discussing the exact status of this theory in the 
case of the psychoneuroses and their related conditions in 
general, we may, as mentioned previously, very conveniently 
use this theory in the elucidation and understanding of the 
further development of the tic condition. 

Let us first consider the spreading of the-tic movements. 
We know how in the ticquer one tic movement may disappear 
only to give way to another, or one after the other an in- 
creased number of tic movements and also of definite com- 
pensatory movements not of a tic nature but of the nature 
of antagonistic gestures and statagems may make their 
appearance. The latter may in certain instances become 
habit movements and eventually real tic movements. One 
movement after the other may be resorted to, some perfectly 
consciously, others more or less unconsciously, as reactions 
of the personality, of the organic makeup or psychophysical 
constitution. These movements are adopted by the patient, 
frequently more or less unconsciously, in order to attain a 
state of equilibrium and -rest, and in order to hide anci make 
up for the defect (the tic movements) of which he is aware. 
In these efforts he overdoes himself and instead of hiding 
the movement he exaggerates it and even resorts to further 
movements in his struggles to compensate, to adapt, to con- 

Meyer Solomon, M. D. 357 

ceal, and to flee from a state of mental disarrangement to a 
state of psychophysical equilibrium, 

Now, most of our gross reactions are of a psychophysical 
nature, so that we find that when the old types of defense 
or of activity are called forth (as they are in the tics, as ex- 
plained earlier in this paper, from the evolutionary and 
phylogenetic standpoint), the resulting actions, now reanimi- 
fied, appear in exaggerated form, and also tend to "evoke a 
faint phosphorescence of the old primordial feeling. " This 
probably results in the outcropping of the various psychic 
trends which appear in the ticquer and which increase in 
degree and in number. The most common of the resurrected 
psychic trends is the general tendency to dissociation or 
disruption of the personality with the reanimification, in 
varying degrees, of certain mental deficiencies and inferior 
types of reaction "which are indicative of the relative failure 
of the patient to measure up to and efficiently deal with and 
adapt to the struggles of life as he must face and meet them. 
And so, many undesirable and inferior kinds of mental trends 
come forth and hold sway. The basis of their appearance 
is the lack of will power and of control over these various 
trends which were previously more or less completely held 
under control but which are now impulsively forcing their 
way to the surface and being unravelled. These trends are 
characterized by their relative immaturity, their infantile- 
like and archaic type. And so we have the states of inde- 
cision, of doubt, of uncertainty, of inferiority, of depression, 
of unrest, of self-depreciation, of self-observation, of auto 
and heterosuggestion, of egocentricity, of self-criticism, of 
inhibition of the expression of the personality along the 
broader, social lines of effort. The groundwork for added 
states (hysteric, psychasthenic, and others) is here very 

The law of psychic ambivalence and ambitendency, as 
so nicely developed by Bleuler, 17 here shows itself in marked 
degree. There is both the positive and the negative tend- 
ency toward the performance and execution of these activi- 
ties and reactions which are necessary for the living of a life 

lyThe Theory of Schizophrenic Negativism. Translated by William A. 
White. Nervous and Mental Disease. Monograph Series, No. n. 

358 On the Genesis and the Meaning of Tics 

of a high or low degree of efficiency, so that the ticquer is 
obsessed by the problem of "to do or not to do." This 
added factor leads to an exaggeration of all the unfavorable 
psychic tendencies which have made their appearance, and 
the intrapsychic struggle goes on with increased vigor. 

The entire mental picture which we find in the most 
extreme forms of tic could be beautifully elaborated along 
these general lines. For example, the ticquer becomes 
asocial, seclusive and shuns society because of the conscious- 
ness of the condition and the exaggerated sensitiveness. 
This represents compensatory, defensive methods of con- 
cealment. Absentmindedness and the inability to concen- 
trate the attention are conditioned by the great degree of 
attention devoted to the tic. The mental dissociation or 
disintegration leads to an inflating of the emotional aspect 
of the patient's mental life with a resulting increased ner- 
vous irritability and reaction and a heightened degree of 
susceptibility to emotional disequilibration and fatiguability 
of the mental faculties. The lack of self-assertion, of con- 
fidence in himself, and the feeling of inferiority and insuffici- 
ency are natural consequences of the general picture. The 
inhibition of even, unhampered self-expression is always 

In tics, it must be noted, there is regression to more 
inefficient and inferior methods of response and adaptation, 
the types of activity being of a somatic and psychic nature. 
Following the regression and owing to constant repetition 
and habit formation there is a gradual fixation to certain 
methods of response which become the lines of least resist- 
ance and this is followed by progression and development of 
the general picture to other tics and psychic symptoms. 

In general we note that the psychophysical reaction 
which we come upon in the tics leads to the unearthing of 
various psychophysical types of reaction, this unearthing 
consisting of disintegration or regression or dissociation, the 
repressed, hidden, unconscious, phylo and ontogenetic, 
archaic and relatively infantile-like activities, tendencies and 
possibilities coming to the fore and unfolding themselves. 

It is here seen that this broad genetic standpoint is one 
of the greatest contributions to psychopathology and is of 

Meyer Solomon? M. ZX 359 

Infinite aid to us in the understanding of the problems which 
confront us in the domain of psychopathology and psychia- 

Comparative and animal psychology and the study of 
the reactions of children, of primitive races, and of the men- 
tally disordered give us a splendid opportunity for studying 
and unravelling the meaning of the many somatic and psychic 
manifestations which are exhibited to us in the psychoneu- 
roses and psychoses and in tracing out the racial history of 
man. Is it not plain that an understanding of the genesis and 
meaning of tics opens the gateway to the elucidation of the 
origin and significance of the psychoneuroses and functional 
psychoses of reaction types of various kinds ? 


M. D. (Little, Brown & Co., Boston, 1915-) 

It is a rare and pleasant experience to meet a book on such 
a general topic as delinquency, which has not as its raison d'etre 
the exploitation of some over-worked hypothesis. The Director 
of the Psychopathic Institute of the Juvenile Court in Chicago 
has, however, not only avoided this danger but has given psycholo- 
gists, jurists, and penologists such a report of his five years work 
as not one of them can afford to overlook. As the title of the 
work implies, the material is drawn from the individual study of 
the delinquent. He presents the results of the unbiased investi- 
gation of the discoverable factors in the production of criminality 
in 1000 recidivists, who were mostly, though far from exclusively, 
adolescents the period when factors, both internal and external, 
are most easily determined and modified. 

A careful perusal of the introductory chapter on methods re- 
veals both the thoroughness and open-mindedness of the author. 
He demonstrates that no satisfaction was gained by the finding of 
any special mental or physical abnormality, unless a more direct 
relation could be shown with the crime committed than is establish- 
ed by mere coincidence. It is particularly satisfying to note the 
precautions taken in the application of set tests, how careful Dr. 
Healy and his assistants have been to determine the completeness 
of cooperation on the part of the subject and to weigh 
this factor in evaluating the results. One soon reaches the con- 
elusion that the author's own series of tests are much more likely 
to lead to reliable diagnosis than the series of Binet, which demands 
so much of the rather specialized capacity of abstract formulation. 
Healy's tests, on the other hand, deal fairly with the primitive, 
untaught mind and that which has an unequal and deceptive 
development of language ability. In connection with these 
tests, it is interesting to note, by the way, that he finds irregularity 
in results (or cooperation) to be so often associated with epilepsy 
and depletion from sex over-indulgence that it may be taken as a 
suggestive diagnostic feature. 

The value for the reader in discovering the eclectic view-point 
and critical conservatism of an investigator lies in the confidence 
which these qualities beget in the reliability of results. One can 
read most of "The Individual Delinquent" to learn facts without 
the distraction of critical uncertainty. With this in mind, there- 
fore, a few of his conclusions, picked mostly at random, may be 


Reviews 361 

quoted. An important factor in the production of delinquency 
he finds to He in the premature appearance of adult sex develop- 
ment a precocity which he regards as dangerous because it 
seems to be correlated with a stimulation of sex instinct before 
adult inhibitions appear. In girls (not in boys) he finds a distinct 
tendency to general physical over-development as compared with 
the norm of the same age. In this connection it is striking to 
find how many of his cases, which seem to exhibit ingrained 
criminal tendencies, are delinquents only during the period of 
adolescent instability. The various statistics are naturally also of 
extreme interest, particularly since they are the result of exam- 
ination of 1,000 cases, chosen for this purpose only when there 
were sufficient data secured to make the individual study relatively 
complete, and since they are so at variance with the publications 
of others who have approached criminal statistics to prove a theory 
rather than to learn facts. He finds alcoholism in one or both 
parents in 311 cases. He cannot determine any direct inheritance 
of criminal tendencies as such, but regards them as indirectly of 
great importance as there were 61% who showed distinct defects 
in the family antecedents. He thinks that stigmata of degener- 
tion are probably better correlated with mental defect and also 
with nutritional or environmental conditions than with criminalism 
as such. Followers of Lombroso will be disappointed to read that 
he found only 83 epileptics, or possible epileptics, among his 1,000 
cases. A full two-thirds of the cases presented no symptoms of 
mental abnormality while only one tenth were definitely feeble- 
minded. These are but scattered data; no digest, which might 
be taken as substitute for the book itself, would be advisable. 

It is to be expected, of course, that psychologists (and partic- 
ularly those interested in dynamic psychology) will find mixed 
pleasure in reading this work. The section on "Mental Con- 
flicts^ must appeal to all with its practical demonstration of what 
can be done by psychological analysis to abolish anti-social tenden- 
cies in many puzzling cases. There will undoubtedly be dis- 
appointment in his failure to make general psychological formula- 
tions, but, as the critics would differ amongst themselves as to what 
these formulations should be, Dr. Healy's silence is here probably 
a wise conservatism. At the same time there is certainly exhibited 
a tendency to be rather too individual and give too few generaliza- 
tions. This is evidenced; by his failure to regard as a factor in one 
case what has been admitted as such in a slightly more obvious 
instance. To cite one example: On page 192, he speaks of the 
inheritance of hypersexual tendencies; on page 166, we find: 
". . . immodest behavior and use of obscene language on the 
part of a parent, which we have so frequently found to be one of 
the main causes of a girl going wrong . . ." Somewhat 
similar results are thus ascribed once to heredity and again to 
environment. At this stage of our knowledge it would, of course, 

362 Reviews 

be foolish to eliminate any specific inheritance as a factor, but it 
is surprising that in the former case he does not consider environ- 
ment as a factor, although he elsewhere gives striking evidence of 
unconscious influence proceeding from one individual to another 
via sex initiation. 

It is possible that this lack of a broad psychological view 
point this example chosen is far from isolated is connected with 
a specific, and most definitely serious, defect in the book. The 
treatment of the psychoses is distinctly unsatisfactory. Ap- 
parently the author has had to rely on the literature for his prepara- 
tory experience and has been fortunate only in some cases, if we 
may judge by his references. The most satisfactory group he 
describes is that of the traumatic psychoses and there he follows 
Meyer's admirable study- On the other hand, in introducing the 
Dementia praecox group, he makes no specific mention of any one 
of the cardinal symptoms of disassociation or shallowness of affect, 
scattering of thought, and delusions or hallucinations. His 
nearest approach is when he says: "Variations in the way of ex- 
citement, with dullness and paranoidal excitement are seen during 
the course of the disease." This is followed by the description 
of a case which he says contains the symptoms typical of the 
psychosis but in which no pathognomic abnormality is mentioned 
except negativism a vague term whose meaning varies with the 

Not unnaturally with such unfamiliarity, the psychosis is 
a "dispensation of Providence." There is no evidence that to 
him psychiatry is as much a problem of every day life as it is of 
institutional care of the insane. We can, therefore, find such a 
statement as this: 

"The mental findings and the conduct determined the fact 
of aberration and that is all that should be necessary for immediate 
court purposes. Further business of diagnosis should be left to a 
psychopathic hospital. " 

It is true that responsibility may and should be evaded 
when the psychosis is full-blown; but how about the innumerable 
cases of incipient psychotic disturbance which grade over into the 
"mental conflicts?" 

In harmony with this diffidence is the repeated hope for aid 
from the Abderhalden, or some similar reaction. For instance: 

"The newer methods of diagnosis of Dementia praecox we 
look forward to for help in one place where discrimination is im- 
portant. " 

But surely a psychologist cannot hope to predict conduct by 
physical findings! If Dementia praecox postulated criminality, 
the situation might be different, but, as it stands, the reaction would 
only be of value in the doubtful cases cases which are so many of 
them non-institutional. 

With this vague conception of the psychoses it is not surpris- 

Reviews 363 

ing to find that diagnosis used faute de mieux. For instance, in 
describing Case 169, of "pathological lying," he says: 

"We could not in any way find evidence of mental peculiarity 
but we did question his story because of intrinsic improbability/ * 
Rather conflicting statements! Later on, he explains, the 
case was diagnosed as one of "epileptic psychosis " because the 
subject developed convulsions, although there is no evidence, or 
even claim, presented that the lying was an equivalent, or in any 
way correlated with the epilepsy except as a coincidence! 

Such faults in a book of this sort are serious but only in so far 
as the work is theoretical. The main object of the book is to 
present facts in an unbiased way and for the first time we have 
<>fcm in anything like completeness. The importance of Dr. 
Hej-Jy's labors cannot, then, be overestimated. His publication 
will be eagerly ^welcomed by the army of workers who see a few 
cases at various stages of delinquency and who long to know 
authoritatively what the types are. how they develop, what the 
outlook is, and how thlat may be modified by appropriate treat- 
ment. We owe him much. 


HUMAN MOTIVES. By James Jackson Putnam, M. D. Pro- 
fessor Emeritus, Diseases of the Nervous System, Harvard University. 
Boston. Little, Brown & Co., 1915; I2mo. Price $i. 

According to the publishers' announcement this is a study in 
the psychology and philosophy of human conduct, based largely 
on the author's use of the Freudian psychoanalytic method of 
mental diagnosis. The editorial introduction by Dr. Bruce 
consists in a brief outline of the subconscious mind. The author's 
preface, aside from anticipating the main features of the book, 
makes the announcement that the latter is based very largely on 
the personal experience of the last two years. The author gives 
one the impression that this period represents to him one in which 
he has to his own satisfaction mastered the relationship between 
psychoanalysis on the one hand and our current conception of 
moral philosophy, ethics and religion on the other. During this 
period he has " studied motives at close range. " 

The work consists of six chapters and of these the first two 
deal with the philosophic method of viewing man, while the others 
are devotee! to psychoanalysis. In the last chapter the author 
makes suggestions as to the possibility of synthesizing the two 

Human motives are either constructive or adaptive. The 
former are associated with conscious reasoning and will, the 

364 Reviews 

latter with emotional repressions. The former represent aspira- 
tions and are much higher than they seem, since every man has an 
ideal "getting out the best that is in himself." He is a "lover 
of the best" and will die for and live for mere ideas and abstractions 
like patriotism. He is assumed to be Iree because he voluntarily 
creates, and is as free as anything in the Universe; and he is free 
because he can choose. But where there is freedom there must be 
clashing and compromise and repression. Among repressed 
subjects are prejudices and superstitions., which, while irrational, 
unconsciously affect our conscious motives. 

Man has feelings of humanity and brotherhood but has also 
the feeling of separate individuality which comes from the egoism 
of the young child. The instincts also come into play in the 
conflict between duty to others and love of self. No one, however 
good, can escape this conflict. 

The old teaching as exemplified in philosophy and religion 
is based on a study of man at his best, man in the abstract. This 
is incomplete because it cannot promote such feelings as sympathy 
and understanding among men. Something has always been 
needed to supplement it and this is found in psychoanalysis in 
which conditions are reversed. 

Religion the author regards as an existence which is in har- 
mony with that of the "universe-personality." If we have the 
attributes we give to the Deity, as reason, love (disinterested) 
and will, we should seek this harmony. The "world of sense" is 
antagonistic to this conception, in that it leads us to reject all 
other than sense knowledge. Our notions of love, honor, power, 
justice cannot spring from the sense-world. We must look beyond 
the latter a mere illusion to find the true, immu cable. Mind 
cannot be evolved from life but must pre-exist. God and man 
must be conceived in the same way both represent a totality of 
expressions of world will, both create and persist in their creations. 
Man must be regarded as creating his thoughts and acts, even his 
own body. Every portion of the universe is responsible for every 
other portion. Man, though ever changing, represents a "self 
consciously unified person" and therefore feels responsible for all 
he has ever done or ever will do. Freud himself, as the author 
states, never cared to generalize on the subject of psychoanalysis. 

The book proceeds with a general outline of psychoanalysis 
which need not be reproduced here. The subject of sexual re- 
pression, so far from being exaggerated by Freud, is completely 
borne out by centuries of teaching by the Church that all sexual 
matters must be repressed, because they proceed solely from the 
flesh, the material world. As we have seen, however, the author 
with others both Freudians and non-Freudians makes the 
libido a form of creative energy, which attitude lifts it above the 
purely material plane. Complete suppression of anything which 
will not down is regarded as unwise hygiene of the soul, and the 

Reviews 365 

results of psychoanalysis, both as to cause and cure of neurotic 
disturbances, amply sustain this view. A man's unbidden 
thoughts are part of him and must be acknowledged. 

Psychoanalysis cannot be employed upon a number of sub- 
jects at once. It lies between physician and patient, teacher and 
pupil. The unconscious but active motive must be brought under 
the conscious will. The fantastic world of childhood must be 
re-created. The teacher, dealing with childhood has an advantage 
over the physician who applies his analysis to adults. 

The child should be encouraged to show all that is in him, 
and at the same time must learn to regard himself" less as an in- 
dividual and more as a social unit. He should do things which 
divert him from himself. 

In psychoanalysis an act is nothing, a tendency everything. 
The latter must be changed. In analysis of one's self one must 
avoid all tendency to self depreciation, since all must make mistakes. 
One should also distrust in himself whatever savors of emotional 

There is no radical difference between the neurotic and sound 
subject in respect to the presence of unreasonable fears, com- 
pulsions and obsessions. Stress of circumstances causes even the 
normal man to show objectionable traits. Mental disease-phe- 
omena, like physical, indicate natural reactions, or "attempts at 
repair" such as are found in the organic and even inorganic worlds. 

Treatment by psychoanalysis represents an education 
the removal of inhibitions which are fixations or arrests. 

The fifth chapter is in a way a resume of what the author had 
previously said. He also seeks to reduce his teachings to a tabula- 
tion- The rationalisation or adaptation of life progresses in 
proportion as the individual is mature, but here maturity is by no 
means equivalent to age. The process also is active in the im- 
mature child. 

A subject is usually quite unaware of his fixations and explains 
the results of his internal conflicts by false reasoning. Ration- 
alisation in this connection becomes a bad habit. 

All motives are creative. The act is not the result of the 
immediate motive but of all those which preceded it. The final 
act throws no light on the original motives. 

In speaking of certain adults as children who never grew up, 
we are referring to a much larger class than is commonly under- 
stood. All who attain mature years with fixations are to be 
regarded as children. All individualists belong here unless their 
individualism is merely a stepping stone to altruism. Indeed, 
we see in all men a desire to place themselves on a pinnacle. This 
craving seeks expression in a thousand acts. Even if outgrown 
it may assert itself in times of stress. It is of benefit at times when 

366 Reviews 

individuals espouse just but unpopular causes. What we ordina- 
rily call courage involves self assertion but a higher courage is 
involved in refraining from certain things. 

All individuals also have occasional cravings to get away 
from responsibility and back to rest and pleasure. We long to 
get back to a theoretical state of childhood, as the infant longs to 
return to his mother's body. 

For a number of reasons this not a work to be criticized. 
The author does not mean to be dogmatic. His dicta, while they 
may have the ipse dixit flavor, are not meant to be axioms. The 
creative energy of the mind can formulate these dicta and they 
must clash with the convictions of others. It is easy to deride the 
method as a method, but we must judge it by its results. In 
Emerson's hands it became a profound stimulus to thought to 
people of quite dissimilar mental makeup- In like manner the 
author's work will prove of the highest suggestive value to the 
reader, and especially the materialistic reader. But aside from 
the general character of the book we must not forget that it has a 
very definite object, to wit, to elevate psychoanalysis to the 
highest planes of philosophical speculation and to remove the 
prejudices of those who profess to go to the other extreme and see 
in it only the slime of the pit. The author's attempt to bring it 
in unison with the eternal verities is deserving of the highest 
commendation and illustrates his deep faith in the nobility of this 
new resource for understanding the spiritual side of man. 



Thorndike. Published by Teachers College, Columbia University, 
New York, 1913. 

In the first three chapters of Vol. I Professor Thorndike in- 
troduces what he calls the 'original tendencies' of man. These 
are the simpler and what have often been called the 'instinctive*, 
or 'innate' forms of behaviour. And they are here taken as innate, 
in contradistinction to learned; as the inherited dispositions on 
which the character of the adult is built. In Chapters IV to X, 
inclusive, these original tendencies are enumerated and described. 
This is a valuable, although somewhat unordered, inventory of 
the more elementary human, activities. A wholesome step is 
taken in replacing the terms 'pleasure 5 and c pain ? (subjective cate- 
gories supposed from time immemorial to account for many sorts 
of reaction and to be the basis of the learning process) by the more 
objective terms 'satisfiers' and 'annoyers'. The author inclines 

Reviews 367 

away from the common idea that very young individuals exhibit 
random or diffuse activities. 

A curiously baffling and admirably sceptical chapter on the 
Emotions (XI) is followed by a largely destructive chapter on 
Consciousness, Learning, and Remembering., in which Prof. 
Thorndike is in point of literary style almost at his worst; and in 
some cases incoherent (e.g. p. 185., middle). The chapters on the 
Anatomy and Physiology, on the Source, on the Order and Dates 
of Appearance and Disappearance, and on the Value and Use of 
Original Tendencies seem to the reviewer inconclusive and unin- 
spired. There are shrewd and interesting remarks here and 
there, particularly those of a destructive intent, which the older 
reader will appreciate; while on the whole he will wonder whether 
the author has, in these last four chapters, any other than the 
whimsical aim of producing bedlam in the minds of his younger 

Vol. II is a long treatise of 452 pages on the faculty of Learning. 
The author would probably reject the suggestion that he is dealing 
with his subject in the spirit of the faculty psychology. Learning, 
he would say, is an empirical fact, which he is simply describing. 
So also, however, the 'faculties' are empirical phenomena 
attention, memory, and all the rest. The question is, do Prof. 
Thorndike and others like minded analyze the phenomena in a 
way that reveals their mechanism, or in the unfruitful manner of 
the faculty psychology? Is, for instance, the mind an aggregate 
of the following "functions that have been, or might be, studied: 
Ability to spell cat, ability to spell, knowledge that 1/289 equals 17, 
ability to read English, knowledge of telegraphy,. . . . ability 
to give the opposites of good, up, day, and night, .... fear 
and avoidance of snakes, misery at being scorned/ 5 etc., etc. 
(p* 59) - ? To the reviewer it appears that these 'functions' are cross- 
sections of the mental life which reveal nothing of the mind's real 
mechanism. This way, surely, lie the maximum of pedantry and 
the minimum of scientific insight. The volume as a whole may be 
recommended to those who wish to ascertain to what extent 
academic psychology of to-day is still dominated by the spirit of 
faculty psychology. 

E. B. HOLT. 

SLEEP AND SLEEPLESSNESS. By H. Addington Bruce. Little, 
Brown & Co. Boston, 1915. Pp VII, 219. 

This book constitutes the third volume of the "Mind and 
Health" Series. In it the author has given an admirable and 
clear summary of the recent psycho-pathological work on sleep 
and sleeplessness. He begins by a discussion of the nature of 
sleep and considering the difficulties involved in making such a 

368 Reviews 

discussion clear to the average reader, the author has done^re- 
markably well in summarizing the technical work along this line. 
He then passes to the problem of dreams and the part played by 
the unconscious mechanism hivolved in dreaming, laying particu- 
lar and justifiable stress upon the point, that when problems are 
solved or adjusted in dreams, they have always been previously 
solved by a kind of unconscious incubation during the waking 
moments. The chapters on the disorders of sleep and the causes 
of sleeplessness are brief but comprehensive, while in the discus- 
sion of sleeplessness important stress is laid on the mental elements 
involved in every case of insomnia. A strong plea is made for the 
psycho-therapeutic rather than the pharmacological treatment of 
the disorders of sleep. On the whole the book is clearly written 
and can be recommended to those who wish a brief and at the 
same time comprehensive account of the modern theories of sleep 
and its disorders. 



To the Editor of the Journal of Abnormal Psychology. 

I wish to call your attention to the fact that the quotation 
attributed to me on p. 135 in the June-July issue of your Journal 
is a misrepresentation of what I actually said. Due to an over- 
sight on the part of the publishers 'of the A. M. A. Journal, the 
stenographer's notes of the A. M. A. meeting wpre not submitted 
to the members of the Section for examination and correction. 
The Editor of the A. M. A. Journal regretted this fact and the dis- 
cussion of my paper "The Conception of Homosexuality," from 
which this quotation was taken, was published in corrected form 
in the Transactions of the Section of Nervous and Mental Diseases 
(1913) of the A. M. A. 




William Healy and Mary Tenney Healy. Pp. 278 Plus X and 
Indexes. Little, Brown & Co., 1915. 

THE CRIMINAL IMBECILE. By Henry Herbert Goddard. Pp. 
154 Plus VII & Index. The MacMillan Co., 1915. #1.50. 


596 Plus XVIII. D. Appleton & Co., 1915. 2.50 net. 

A SURGEON'S PHILOSOPHY, By Robert T. Morris, M. D. Pp. 
575 Doubleday, Page & Co. $2.00 net. 

BACKWARD CHILDREN. By Arthur Holmes. Pp. 247. Bobbs, 
Merrill. 1.00 net. 


Crile. Pp. 105 Plus XII, The MacMillan Co. 1.25. 






HISTORICALLY speaking, dreams have always been 
credited with meanings; but, in a given case, the 
psychologist must ask, how far does the accredited 
meaning represent the mere fancy of the interpreter 
and how far does it mirror actual conditions in the dreamer's 


mind. To seek aught beyond these is but idle divination. 
For of all dreams it is true, in the words of Ralph Waldo 
Emerson, "that the reason for them is always latent in the 
individual." "Things are significant enough. Heaven 
knows ;" he exclaims, "but the seer of the sign, where is 
he?" I 

Not till the last year of the nineteenth century, did an 
answer come; it was Sigmund Freud's work, "The Interpreta- 
tion of Dreams," which said, in effect, "Here am I, in 
Vienna." 2 


"In the following pages," he begins, "I shall prove that 
there exists a psychological technique by which dreams may 
be interpreted and that upon the application of this method 
every dream will show itself to be a senseful psychological 
structure which may be introduced into an assignable place 
in the psychic activities of the waking state. " 

*A paper read at Columbia University, April 19, 1915, at a Joint Meeting of 
the New York Branch of the American Psychological Association and the New 
York Academy of Sciences, Section of Anthropology and Psychology. 

Copyright 1916, by Richard G. Badger. All Rights Reserved. 


37 Scientific Method in the Interpretation of Dreams 

The sweeping character of this pretension has not been 
justified. The demonstration has succeeded only with that 
large class of dreams in which there happens to be a trend of 
infantile reminiscence and of disguised sexual phantasy. 
It fails to reveal the inner nature of other kinds of dreams 
or the modus operandi of dreaming as a process of thinking. 
And while it is asserted by the publishers of the English 3 
edition that the main contentions of his book have never 
been refuted, the fact is that his thesis has not been ac- 
cepted by the representatives of scientific psychology, as a 
solution of the problem. 

The exponents of Freudian interpretations today are 
medical men associated with the practice of so-called "Psy- 
cho-analysis;" which means that they are more concerned to 
apply Freud's ideas for the treatment of nervous ailments 
than to cultivate pure psychology. An examination of the 
methods they exemplify in individual practice and in the 
large literature of the psycho-analytic movement shows 
sufficient reason, in my view, why the psycho-analytic 
theory of dreams should still be greeted with skepticism. 
Psycho-analysts tell us that repugnance for the subject- 
matter has delayed acceptance of their essentially sexual 
interpretations. But there is also a resistance based on 
sound logical criticism. Judged by this standard, Freud's 
theory appears dangerously inaccurate and needs revision. 


Dr. C. G. Jung, formerly a pupil and literal follower of 
Freud, is attempting to reform psycho-analytic doctrine 
from within the fold. 4 Incidentally, he tells us that there 
is nothing essentially novel about the technique of investi- 
gating the dream in Psycho-analysis. It copies the methods 
of historical and literary criticism and consists in collecting 
all the data possible about each item of the dream. These 
are then called the dream material. What seems to me 
novel and characteristic is the psycho-analytic method of 
working up this material into an interpretation by a process 
of inference. Freud and Jung are today no longer in agree- 
ment as to the details of this process. 5 Speaking of the 

Lydiard H. Horton 371 

interpretations of these authorities, on the basis of extended 
investigations of dreams on nay own part, I must say that 
their methods do not seem to be as rigorous, as is required 
today in the investigation of literary and historical problems, 
nor capable of bearing comparison with experimental psy- 

It must be acknowledged, however, that Freud has 
infinitely refined the guesses of earlier generations of thinkers 
as to the relationship of sleep-fancies to the waking life. He 
has conferred startling precision upon the general proposi- 
tion of Goethe "that these whimsical pictures, inasmuch as 
they originate from us, may well have an analogy with our 
whole life and fate." And he has certainly vindicated in 
practice that dictum of Emerson: "A skilful man reads 
dreams for his self-knowledge." * But he has formulated 
no open-sesame, as psycho-analysts proclaim. 

When it comes to the use of symbols, the Viennese 
professor parts company with the Concord philosopher. 
The latter, as we know, decried the mystical conception of 
fixed symbolism in any domain. But Freud, although 
theoretically agreed, falls victim in practice to the fascina- 
tions of the dream-book cipher method which he has con- 
demned. The adjective Freudian is now justly a by-word, 
among psychopathologists, for a stereotyped habit of re- 
ducing each item of a dream to some cryptic allusion or 
roundabout reference to the primitive demands of the in- 
fantile and sexual life. Freud's fertility in such interpreta- 
tions has led one of our best-known experimental psychol- 
ogists to say, in mingled admiration and impatience: "His 
utterances are those of a poet, not of a scientist." 


As spokesman of the Zurich group of psycho-analysts, 
Dr. Jung has lately protested against these arbitrary trans- 
lations, which he calls Freud's "reductive methcd," 6 
In formulating a more scientific method of his own, which 
he calls the "constructive method," Jung reveals a change 
of views so extensive as to suggest, on several points, almost 
a conversion to the ideas that Dr. Morton Prince expressed 

37 2 Scientific Method in the Interpretation of Dreams 

in 1910, as to the insecurity of the psycho-analytic ideas of 
symbolism. 7 At that time, Jung valiantly defended the 
Freudian preference for stereotyped meanings as against 
the Principian idea of highly variable meanings. 8 Now, 
in going to the other extreme from Freud's cipher-like 
method, Jung has succumbed to the attractions of that other 
popular method, equally decried by his former master: the 
symbolical method of Joseph and Daniel. 9 But at least 
he has bravely called in question views which he once es- 
poused with exaggerated positiveness. 

Jung's principal amendment to the Freudian dream- 
analysis consists in subjecting the literal implications of the 
established Freudian symbols, such as snakes and staircases, 
to a further, more allegorical mode of treatment in which the 
sexual meaning is greatly altered. The evidence, which 
Freudians continually find in dreams, for a p re-occupation 
concerning infantile and sexual needs 10 is explained away, 
as merely incidental reviewing of past experiences, in the 
attempt to solve problems of the future by analogy with the 
past. In other ways also Jung .alters his views, notably by 
following Prince in explaining the dream on a broad biological 
foundation, viewing it as part and parcel of the individual's 
life-struggle. Yet it is difficult to see wherein the so-called 
constructive method really applies, to the concrete dream, 
those biological conceptions of which it makes ostentation. 
The practical consideration of telling the patient what is 
good for him, and of keeping sexuality in the background 
seems to dominate the technique. 6 The interpretations 
are no more accurate than before. There is not much to 
choose between the reductive and the constructive method 
from the standpoint of the application of logic. 


These reductions and constructions of the psycho- 
analytic schools appear to be rather favorite ways of guess- 
ing than rival scientific methods. Unquestionably, they 
must achieve a gratifying number of hits under the easy- 
going conditions of the psycho-analytic seance. This is 
obviously satisfactory to medical practice; but the danger 

Lydiard H. Horton 373 

to psychological theory lies in the temptation to overvalue 
the particular technique that seems to bring about such 
successes. For instance, Freud and Jung., finding it con- 
venient to assume that the dreamer is attempting to express 
his latent thoughts by the use of metaphors and figures of 
speech, have unfortunately come to regard the behavior of 
the Unconscious Mind as if it were employing a secret archaic 
code or language of dreams. , According to Freud, its sym- 
bols have very concrete meanings; Jung, more liberal, says 
they are only very general. But both authors seem to abuse 
the language-analogy as a guidance in dream interpretation. 
That is why psycho-analytic method today suggests not only 
the free play of poetic invention, but the license of mystical 

If there is any present point in Emerson's remark that 
"Mysticism consists in the mistake of an accidental and 
occasional symbol for an universal one," then, in speaking to 
the psycho-analyst, the psychologist should echo Emerson 
further, and say: "Let us have a little algebra instead of 
this trite rhetoric universal signs instead of these village 
symbols and we shall both be gainers. " 11 

The reason we shall need a little algebra, as it were, is 
that many psycho-analysts have fallen into confused ways 
of regarding their signs and significations. 

Consider, for example, the reputed signs of the birth- 
phantasy, as listed by Freud: 12 

"A large number of dreams, often full of fear, which are 
concerned with passing through narrow spaces or with 
staying in the water, are based upon fancies about the em- 
bryonic life, about the sojourn in the mother's womb and 
about the act of birth. " Again, "There are dreams 

about landscapes and localities in which the emphasis is laid 
upon the assurance, 'I have been there before.' In this case 
the locality is always the genital organ of the mother; it can 
be asserted with such certainty of no other locality that one 
has 'been there before.' " 

(What we should infer from the waking illusion of 
familiarity, which, Emerson said "almost every person con- 
fesses" on this basis is too absurd to contemplate.) 

Statements like these, though far from syllogistic in 

374 Scientific Method in the Interpretation of Dream 

form, are virtually general propositions or laws to the effect 
that all dreams having the designated earmarks or manifest 
content, possess additionally and necessarily certain specified 
qualities in the latent content in this case, the meaning of 
birth-phantasy. 13 

Freud and Jung have stood sponsors for many such 
seemingly far-fetched interpretations- How do they come 
to be so sure of their ground ? 


Let A represent the idea in the latent content and C the 
corresponding "symbol" in the manifest content. Suppose 
that in a number of cases a correlation is observed between 
A, the antecedent latent idea, and C, its consequent or 
sequential manifestation in the dream-consciousness. There- 
rafter, the observer comes to interpret the re-appearance of 
C in a dream narrative as a sign of the presence of the affili- 
ated idea A, in the latent content. And, as Thomas Hobbes 
phrased the matter in 1651, the oftener they have been ob- 
served in like connection, the less uncertain is the sign. 16 
Now this is precisely the way we come to recognize the 
verbal signs of our mother-tongue. And our confidence 
that a given speech C 7 is significant of a meaning A 7 , in the 
speaker's intent, is arrived at by relying upon, if not con- 
sciously formulating, just such a causal connection. Where 
an existing language is concerned, this is a perfectly legitimate 
tooling of thought. But in applying such inferences to a 
supposititious language of dreams, psycho-analysts are 
begging the question, as well as running into other kinds of 
fallacy as to the powers of the Unconscious. 

The meanings and significations of dream-items are not 
so simply made out as in language. For one cannot readily 
make sure that the relationship or affiliation between A and 
C has been observed in its purity; there is an uncertainty 
coming from the possible interposition of a variable factor, 
which may have vitiated the observation, as Alfred Sidgwick 
points out in his "Application of Logic." 10 So let us 
well consider the basis of any inference of meaning in dreams, 
and how far the language-analogy applies. 

Lydiard H. Horton 375 


Fundamentally, every dream, yours or mine, consists 
of certain more or less clearly remembered images or ideas;, 
and these are secondarily derived from some mental disposi- 
tion previously or coetaneously acting in the background^ 
as it were: i. <?., persisting through its residual subliminal 
nervous dispositions. This anterior phenomenon is properly 
called the primary idea or image; the other, which appears 
(supraliminally) in the dream is called the secondary image 
or idea. The dream is thus made up of collocations and 
combinations of secondary images, to which is usually added 
a filling-in of fancy which may be called tertiary ideas : re- 
quired, to find the primary ideas and so, the relation of one 
idea to another which is the measure of "meaning," 

Each secondary or tertiary image, in the absence of any 
immediate stimulus to account for it, may usually be traced 
back into a primary train of thought left unfinished during 
the day. This is the conception of the perseveration of the 
unadjusted^ stated in 1891 by Delage, in giving his theory of 
dreams. 17 Its history runs back to Thomas Hobbes; and it 
has been amplified lately by Professor Woodworth, to whom 
I am indebted for unusually clean-cut illustrations of the 
applicability of the theory to dream-life. The principle is a 
most important contribution to the study of meaning in 

More specifically, Prince, through his text-book on 
"The Unconscious," is the exponent of the idea that the 
elements of meaning reside in the primary ideas and must 
be sought there by highly specific investigations in the given 
case : "the meaning is in the fringe of thought. " The mean- 
ing of a supraliminal image must be discovered in its relation 
to the subliminal ideas clustering around it. This implies 
studying by association-tests what James called the psychic 
overtones, and what Prince has, in his teaching, called the 
unconscious settings-of-ideas, which determine meaning. 1S 
Care must be taken to find the real determinants, and to 
set aside spurious dream material which is not always 
facilitated by the psycho-analytic methods. 

In order to show that one should not assume meanings 

376 Scientific Method in the Interpretation of Dreams 

by rule of thumb, without investigations of this kind. Prince 
has demonstrated a case in which typical phallic symbols, 
in a phobia of bells and towers, had acquired their emotional 
meanings, not through sexual analogies, as Freudians would 
suppose, but through actual contiguity-experience with 
church bells and belfry, quite apart from sexual matters. 1S 
Similarly, snakes, sticks, circles do not necessarily carry the 
sexual meanings assumed by psycho-analysts, who are over- 
influenced by the language-analogy. 



To Freudians such statements seem paradoxical, to say 
the least; "but the simple fact is that never is it correct to 
assume, as they do, a transcendental connection between a 
symbol C and a signification A, as if the Unconscious Mind 
disposed of ready-made symbols of its own. Barring words 
used in their proper sense, and similar borrowings from 
waking habit, the so-called symbols in dreams are essentially 
impromptu fabrications/ in which the association is not a 
direct causal connection between A and C, but a mediate 
association involving a third element, which psycho-analysts 
usually leave out of account. 

An element of this kind, overlooked in the formulation 
of a supposedly simple connection between cause A and 
effect C, is labeled Hidden Z, by Alfred Sedgwick. The 
Hidden Z in this case is what James calls the topic-of- 
thought, Ebbinghaus the set-of-the-mind, and others apper- 
ception-mass. In rhetoric it is familiar as context. It has 
an important place in thought and speech. For example, 
when I utter the phrase Pas de lieu Rhone qne nous the 
idea obtained is different according to whether your language 
apperception-mass is set for French or for English. It may* 
have happened that while I was uttering the French non- 
sense phrase you were hearing it as the English saying. 
Similarly, the traveler in Egypt may correctly apperceive 
the meaning of architectural forms of temples as phallic; 
whereas it would be manifestly out of context to do so in 
connection with churchly edifices of the Gothic type, which 

Lydiard H. Norton 377 

do not represent the generative powers of nature, as do the 

Conversely, the Freudian disciple may apperceive, in 
error, a sexual meaning in a dream, when the dreamer's 
mind contained no reference to this topic. Hence, the 
interpreter must make sure that his own apperception-mass 
is attuned to that of the dreamer in the given case. That is, 
one must be free from apperceptive bias. One must reject 
all hastily formed causal laws to the effect that C is the sign 
of A in every case. Otherwise absurd conclusions must 
result, as in Freud's theory of the birth-phantasies. For 
the same " symbol " may proceed from entirely different 
significations according to the set-of-the-mind or appercep- 
tion-mass. The following analogy of Ebbinghaus puts the 
matter clearly: "When a train enters a large station there 
are many paths over which it might pass; but its actual 
path depends on the position which was given to the switches 
immediately before the train's arrival." 19 That is why 
one needs to detect, experimentally, the dream material 
that really represents the set-of-the-mind, and thence the 
significant relations called meaning. 

In this connection, I published a year ago the dream 
of a child of six, containing seemingly typical phallic 
symbols. 20 Not one of them could be correlated with 
a sexual context; but every one was concretely shown to 
have reached its position in the dream through the influence 
of an entirely different set-of-the-mind. It is, therefore, not 
safe to assume stereotyped meanings in dreams. 


There are three reasons why psycho-analysts do not 
more often encounter this variable element, this Hidden Z. 
First, such dreams as they elect to deal with, are mostly 
sexual. Second, they do not apply the methods of in- 
dividual differences which have been made so familiar and 
so useful by Professor Cattell in this country.* Thirdly, 
their type of culture leads them to study the dream exten- 

*The writer's present psychophysiological theory of dreams was first broached 
In public, at a series of meetings on the subject of Individual Differences, held in 
honor of Professor Cattell, at Columbia University, in the Department of Psychol- 
ogy, in April, 1914. 

378 Scientific Method in the Interpretation oj uream* 

sively rather than intensively and all the while in apparent 
disregard of those conceptions of physiological psychology 
which we now associate with the work of Wundt, of Ladd and 
of Woodworth, and with the psychopathology of Prince, 

To be sure, Jung's recent utterances before the Psycho- 
Medical Society of London, demonstrate his dissatisfaction 
with the Freudian conception of the dream; but he is still 
far from those studies of specific mental and nervous dis- 
positions to which psychology has slowly come, and for 
which we now have a tool in the shape of Prince's conception 
of the neurogram* In psycho-analytic work a more vague 
use of "dream material" is preferred and it is only by good 
luck that the real settings-of-ideas come into account. Jung, 
no less than Freud, has forgotten that philosophy has become 
mechanistic since Descartes' 21 famous year of 1637, and 
Jung would throw us back to the early seventeenth century, 
with his energic conception of the Libido, or the Ur-libido, 
now called Horme and sometimes merely elan vital. And 
this, fifty years after Herbert Spencer's tremendous emphasis 
on specific studies in reflex-action I 22 

Fontenelle, the wittiest of Cartesians, writing in 1686, 
gives us a classic tableau of this sort of speculative temper. 
23 He pictures worthies like Pythagoras, Heraclitus, 
Empedocles, as being invited to witness Lulli's opera " Phae- 
ton," at the Paris Odeon. In characteristic fashion, each 
in turn tries ,to explain the spectacular aerial flight of the 
actor in the title-role, from the floor of the stage to the ceil- 
ing. One says, that Phaeton is able to fly by the potency 
of certain numbers of which he is composed; another, that a 
secret virtue carries him aloft; still another, that Phaeton 
travels through the air because he abhors to leave a vacuum 
in the upper corner of the stage; and so on, with a hundred 
and one speculations which, as Fontenelle remarks, should 
have ruined the reputation of antiquity. Finally, he pic- 
tures Descartes coming along and saying: "This actor is 
able to rise from the floor because he hangs by a cord, at the 
other end of which is a counterpoise, heavier than he, which 
is descending. " This is mechanistic ... If Freud and Jung 
had been of the party, can it be doubted that the one 
would have ascribed Phaeton's aviation to a wish-fulfilment 

Lydiard H. Norton 379 

of the flying-dream type, derived from a reminiscence of 
erotic motion-pleasure 24 in childhood, or that Jung, for 
his part, would have said Phaeton was levitated by the 
energic force of a sublimation of the Ur-Libido, alias elan 
vital, alias Horme! 


Let me illustrate these points of criticism of the psycho- 

analytic methods, by the analysis of a sample dream; speak- 

ing first as the dreamer giving the simple narrative; next as 

Freud applying the reductive method; then as Jung employ- 

ing the constructive method; and finally explaining the 

dream, as I would myself prefer, by the use of what I may 

call the reconstitutive method. The dream itself, for reasons 

that will be obvious, I call the "Scratch-Reflex Dream." 

"I was looking down upon a microscope from the 

right side of the lens-tube, and could see, laid upon the 

stage, a glass slide. Under the cover-glass, in place of 

an ordinary specimen, there was supposed to be a new 

reflex, one of those discovered by my friend the neuro- 

logist, Dr. X., whose scrawly handwriting I recognized 

on the label. I was anxiously trying to decipher what 

he had written, and was having the same trouble with it 

that I had experienced in real life with the record of 

some of his dreams, which I had interpreted successfully. 

The handwriting on the label, as I gazed, appeared less 

and less like script and more like disconnected, scratchy 

lines or hachures, owing to the formation of lacunae in 

the inky traces. It became scratchier and scratchier as 

I wakened. On coming to my senses . . . " 

"That is enough," we hear Dr. Freud saying, "It is 

obvious what kind of reflex-action you have in mind! The 

word 'slide' is of a punning nature, and in conjunction with 

the easy moveability of the microscope-barrel suggests a 

meaning akin to that of dreams of skating and sliding, which 

are usually sexual. From the standpoint of symbolics, the 

geometric forms and relative positions of cover-glass and 

microscope suggest allusions to the generative powers of 

nature like the phallicism of the ancient Egyptian religion, 
whose sacred emblems of sexual objects still confront the 
explorer and the tourist. Here, the 'stage' of the microscope 
refers obviously to the theatre, so often the scene of exhibi- 
tionistic activities. Your dream represents the male and 
the female principles in such a manner that it must mean a 
survival of infantile curiosity related to the mystery of 
parenthood. Sir, this proves your Libido to have been 
fixated at the 'voyeur* level. " 25 

"Not so fast," says Dr. Jung, while the dreamer remains 
nonplussed at the foregoing example of the reductive method. 
"It is not good for the health to overvalue the past, as my 
colleague does. Nous avons change tout cela, in Zurich. 
Your curiosity, according to the constructive method, is a 
demand for satisfaction in new and better ways than those 
of infancy. I will prove this to be so, by an investigation 
of the dream material. This Dr. X., what of him and his 
handwriting ? " 

The dreamer then explains that Dr. X. had consented 
to have his dreams analyzed, and that the outcome had been 
the uncovering of his secret intention to be married; the 
dreamer also states that Dr. X. had written some very 
original papers on periosteal reflexes. 

"Ah," says Dr. Jung, as it were, making quotations from 
his own writings, (as indicated in italics) "one has only to 
hear this dream material in order to understand at once that 
the dream is not so much the fulfilment of infantile desires as 
it is the expression of biological duties hitherto neglected because 
of . infantilism.^} To be sure these are sexual 

objects that you are lopking at in the dream, as Freud would 
have it. But your interest in them is not so primitive as it 
would seem. For do you not, symbolically speaking, c look 
down upon' them in your fancy. And moreover, since you 
are looking at these emblems of parental union 'from the 
right side, 3 does it not therefore mean that you arc con- 
templating something legitimate; namely, marriage on your 
own account not exhibitionism on the part of others. One 
infers you wish to put away childish sex-curiosity and fulfil 
your destiny as a parent. In this case symbolical value? not 
concrete value must be attached to the sexual phantasy." 

Lydiard H. Plorton 381 

At this point, the dreamer makes free to admit that he is 
a bachelor, and that he -would not be averse to marriage if 
he could manage to take a wife and at the same time keep up 
his research work. 

"Precisely/ 3 Dr. Jung might say, rapidly turning these 
clues to account, "your interest in future advancement is 
clearly reflected in your anxiety to decipher the handwriting 
of Dr. X., with whom you have identified yourself. You 
desire to emulate his scientific achievements; his published 
work on reflexes excites your ambition. The handwriting 
on the label, which perplexes you, is an allusion not only to 
his authorship but to the difficulties in the way of your own 
contribution to the science of dream interpretation. By 
imitating Dr. X/s triumph you wish to make your marriage 
possible. Your Horme or elan vital is pushing you to evolve 
new and higher forms of the Libido. You are sublimating!" 26 


"No, gentlemen," the dreamer replies at last, "your 
reductions and your constructions are too easy-going, too 
conjectural, too much dominated by prepossessions and the 
'will to interpret.' The alleged sources or determinants for 
this dream may or may not have played the parts you assign 
to them; the mystery of the matter must remain inscrutable- 
But what your methods, so plausible in effect, certainly do 
show is how easy it may be to confabulate an explanation 
that goes no deeper than a phrenological reading of cranial 
bumps or than a seance in the cabinet of a palmist. Let us 
turn away from all this and consider what really happened, 
as by the grace of luck I can bear witness. Permit me to 
reconstitute the dream as an actual event, by the employ- 
ment of certain clues which I was about to give when the 
ready-made symbolism of Dr. Freud was interposed." 


Inasmuch as the dream is one of my own, I may be 
permitted to testify that it was unmistakably connected 
with a scratching sensation at my ear, as I distinctly per- 
ceived on awaking. This stimulation proceeded obviously 

382 Scientific Method in the Interpretation of Dreams 

rom a mouse, which I had time to observe in close proximity, 
as it remained perched on the bedclothes, until my own 
startled movements put it to flight. Tracing the stimula- 
tion from this external source, I shall try to maintain the 
following interpretation: 

First, that the dream is an associative reaction to the 
sensation of scratching, in the form of evocations of imagery 
related in experience to this sensory element; and that the 
dream-process was a part of the perception, or recognition 
or apperception of the stimulus. 

Second, that this reaction let us name it apperception 
of the stimulus took place slowly and imperfectly, owing 
to the state of sleep, so that the reaction was, to begin with, 
only remotely relevant to the stimulus, but improved in 
relevancy with successive evocations, until the mental repre- 
sentation closely approximated the character of the stimulus* 

Third, that in and among the secondary images 27 so 
evoked, incidental processes of thought, tertiary compound- 
ings of these images, were immediately set up; the selection 
and re-arrangement of these secondary and tertiary features, 
constituting the revelation of a significant state of mind 
which had preceded the dream. 

Specifically, in addition to the mental response to the 
external stimulus, there was a phantasy representing an 
imaginary wish-fulfilment: namely the desire to forsake the 
study of histology, with the eye-straining search through 
the microscope, in favor of the study of reflex-action or 

My contention is that this blended response 28 to a 
physical and to a psychic cue arose very naturally and simply 
out of a single context, prepared by events of the night 
before; and I would show that by comparing the phantasy 
with this context, it is possible to reconstitute the dream in a 
way that amounts to a refutation of the two other interpre- 
tations, which I have essayed in accordance with the methods 
of Freud and of Jung, respectively. 


Our constant consideration should be for the fact, 
emphasized bv William TampQ that- 

Lydiard H. Norton 383 

without a cue. " 29 Here we have a scratching sensation 
provoked by a mouse as the immediate and demonstrated 
cue. The images that followed in serial response, proved 
upon investigation to have been wholly derived from a cer- 
tain conversation with Dr. X., the night before. The sub- 
ject had been reflex-action and especially the scratch-reflex 
of the guinea-pig 30 as investigated by Sherrington; we 
had discussed also the attempts of other authors to explain 
the higher mental functions in terms of reflex-action. ( 31 ) 
My own preference for such studies as applied to the explana- 
tion of dreams had been touched upon. This preference 
had in turn been contrasted with the fact that I was at the 
time of the dream called upon to spend much time studying 
histological specimens through the microscope. Incidental- 
ly, I told him that this was bad for my eyes, and likewise, I 
had complained that his dreams were not written out clearly 
enough to suit my purpose to study them carefully. Such 
interest had been aroused in the subject of refiexology, that 
Dr, X. and I had stayed up late that night discussing it. 

A study of the dream in the light of these facts will 
show how perfectly the dreaming mind appears to have 
"taken advantage of " them in reality following cues along 
the lines of least resistance. 


The Scratch-Reflex dream is then to be reconstituted 
first of all as a memory-reaction determined by factors of 
recency, frequency and intensity in the dreamer's experi- 
ence. The operation of these factors determines the evoca- 
tion of a specific context or apperception-mass, namely the 
conversation in question, whose affinity with the external 
stimulus (scratching) is now made evident. The course of 
events can be followed so concretely as to permit the logical 
exclusion of other supposed determinants; confining the 
explanation as stated. The principle of the parsimony of 
causes is here applied. I contend that the dream is neither 
an infantile nor a sexual wish-fulfilment, all plausible analo- 
gies to the contrary notwithstanding. Should anyone wish 
to urge the more remote interpretations which I first manu- 

384 Scientific Method in the Interpretation of Dreams 

factured, then the burden of proof rests with him. And no 
proof is conclusive that rests on mere precedent or on mere 
reasoning by analogy. The only psychological proof of an 
interpretation is fundamentally the ability of the interpreter 
to reconstitute the dream beyond peradventure. This I 
propose to accomplish more in detail, showing the dream to 
be a reaction to specific cues, through a process of trial-and- 
eiyor, and to a limited degree, of trial and success. 


Consider the sequence of events : the dream pictures are 
all related, at least individually, to the conversation in 
question: microscope, slide, reflex and "scratchiness" are all 
so many pictures jig-sawed out from this very context or 
apperception-mass. The scratching sensation, we must 
suppose, evoked these pictures serially, in the order stated. 
If these images were what the psychologist calls "trial 
percepts, " we would expect from them just what we do find, 
namely, an increasing degree of correspondence (relevancy) 
between the stimulus-idea and the images, as they 
appear. 33 Precisely so, the images of microscope, slide, reflex 
and scratchy handwriting, as they successively come into 
focus, conform more and more to the nature of the stimulus, 
until the approximation ends in the idea of an all-absorbing 
interest in "scratchy" marks. This visual image hardly 
reaches precision before it becomes translated and transposed 
to the tactile field of my ear; smoothly, as if it were one magic 
lantern view dissolving into another. In fine, the presenta- 
tion of each image in the dream amounts to a groping effort 
of the dreamer's nervous system to find a proper experiential 
equivalent for the arriving stimulus. It is a trial-and-error 
method of perceiving or apperceiving a stimulus by mar- 
shalling associated ideas; in this case they are serially evoked 
(what might be called "oniric echelon"} ; in other cases the 
trial apperceptions are blended smoothly (oniric fusion) or 
heaped together in rough-and-tumble fashion, a kind of con- 
fusion (conveniently called "oniric entassement"} which 
testifies sufficiently to the failures of the Unconscious to 
dispose smoothly of arriving excitations, and so emphasizes 
the theory of trial-and-error, as applied to dreams. 

Lydiard H. Horton 385 


The delay in arriving at the correct apperception of the 

stimulus may be referred to as "finding-time" or simply as 
apperceptive delay. It represents time occupied with the 
reproduction of erroneous apperceptive images appercep- 
tive errors. Meanwhile the stimulus-idea, that mental 
element most closely connected with the original stimulus, 
is operating somewhere in the brain, determining the evoca- 
tion of the secondary images that appear in the dream. 33 
This wire-pulling is dene in the dark; the primary stimulus- 
idea is not itself imaged, at first; neither is the context or 
apperception-mass which meets it half-way, that is, becomes 
conjoined "with the stimulus-idea. Indeed, the images that 
come into the dream are only emerging peaks of a submerged 
island of memory. What shall emerge is determined by the 
interplay of stimulus-idea and apperception-mass, below the 
level of consciousness. (A and Z are working together.) 

The particular " island of memory" in this case, was an 
impression of the talk with Dr. X., about histology, reflex- 
ology and dream interpretation; it remained subliminal, 
evidently, except so far as portions of it were raised above 
the threshold by the reproductive energy of the stimulus of 
scratching. Necessarily, a process of imageless thought had 
taken place, whereby the conversation was brought into 
play as a sub-excited apperception-mass or setting-of-ideas 
for the stimulus-idea. Furthermore, another process of 
imageless thought must have taken place whereby the 
secondary images being raised into consciousness attained to 
their arrangement as a wish-phantasy, without that pre- 
liminary tuning-up which the principal cue (scratching) 
called forth, on its own account. This remains to be ex- 


The dream, viewed as a mere wish-fulfilment, is plainly 
a successful allegory. While the action of the principal cue 
or immediate stimulus had served to evoke the apperception- 
mass or context out of which this wish-phantasy was con- 

386 Scientific Method in the Interpretation of Dreams 

structed, at the same moment, there was an ulterior in- 
fluence at work, dictating a process of re-arrangement of the 
secondary images., so as to give expression to my preference 
for reflexology as against histology. Besides, the ground 
appears to have already been so well prepared that we can 
readily explain the absence of evident signs of trial-and-error. 
For in dreaming that I look away from the microscope and 
turn with intensive interest to the reflex, I was still only 
giving effect to a preference which had already attached the 
emotions of liking and dislike, to these two objects of thought, 
respectively. The creative fancy in this instance, what 
Hobbes 34 called the fiction of the mind, has a very simple 
task to work upon: achieving the imaginary satisfaction of 
unadjusted feelings regarding the mental conflict between 
histology and reflexology. The microscope is accordingly 
reproduced naively with an "endeavor fromward" attached 
to it, and likewise the reflex, with an "endeavor toward" 
it.* Thus is the expression completed of a wish which had 
been partially outspoken in the conversation with Dr. X. 

While the external physical stimulus (scratching) must 
be thought of as being represented dynamically somewhere 
in the arrival platforms of the brain, it is necessary to think 
of the internal psychic stimulus (or wish) as existing in the 
form of facilitations, or ready-made connections of ideas and 
motives, as it were awaiting, in a state of mobilization, the 
proper signal to discharge into consciousness. The expres- 
sion of the wish thus became accessory to the apperception 
of the principal cue. The accessory wish-cue wrought its 

*Hobbes, "Leviathan," Cap. VI: "These small beginnings of motion, within 
the body of man, before they appear in walking, speaking, striking, and other 
visible actions, are commonly called ENDEAVOUR. This endeavour, when it is 
toward something which causes it, is called APPETITE, or DESIRE; . . . And 
when the endeavour is frpmward something, it is generally called AVERSION. These 
words appetite and aversion,we have from the Latins, and they both of them signify 
the motions, one of approaching, the other of retiring. So do also the Greek words 
for the same, which are Horme' and Aphorme'. " 

In this connection, I beg leave to suggest that these Greek terms are more 
usefully applied to dreams and to the passions in general, in their uncomplicated 
primitive sense,rather than in the new way that Dr. C. G. Jung is suggesting for 
jfiTorm*',as a companion word for Libido or for e'lan vital. For several years,! have 
found it useful to employ the coined adjectives hermetic and aphormetic to charac- 
terize the tendencies fromward or toward, as exhibited in the association of ideas. 
For example, in^the Scratch Reflex dream, there is shown an aphormetic tendency 
regarding the microscope and a hermetic tendency regarding the reflex . 

Lydiard H. Horton 387 

effect coetaneously, during the apperceptive delay. 

Granted the correctness of this explanation, does it not 
clearly conform to the statement of Emerson that "dreams 
are the maturation often of opinions not consciously carried 
out to statements, but whereof we already possessed the 
elements, "f 


In the foregoing words of Emerson, there is brought to 
bear on dreams an energic conception of mind-action similar 
to that which Hobbes had developed in his Leviathan in 
1651. The latter, by analogy with conceptions of mechanical 
inertia new in his time, had compared the persevering effect 
of nervous stimuli to the continued agitation of waves of the 
sea after a storm: "When a body is once in motion, it moveth, 
unless something else hinder it, eternally; and whatsoever 
hindreth it, cannot in an instant, but in time, quite extin- 
guish it; and as we see in water, though the wind cease, the 
waves give not over rolling for a long time after: so also it 
happeneth in that motion, which is made in the internal 
parts of man, then, -when he sees, dreams, et cetera." 
(Cap. II) 

The Delage-Woodworth conception that dreams are due 
to persevering effects of unadjusted mental elements is not, 
therefore, entirely novel; but is itself a maturing of opinions 
which have been more or less loosely entertained by -writers 
on dreams since Hobbes first formulated the modern doctrine 
of the association of ideas; not to go back any further. 
The fertility of the conception of the "perseveration of the 
unadjusted" has been emphasized in my mind by illustra- 
tions obtained by an extended study of the dreams of normal 
people, and notably, by the agreement of my conclusions 
with those of Professor Woodworth and of Dr. Morton 
Prince. And I am led to believe that a development of this 
conception should harmonize with accepted principles of 
psychology, normal and abnormal, as formulated in Ladd 
and Woodworth's text-book, and in Prince's "The Uncon- 
scious. " 

fEmerson, R. W., "Lectures and Biographical Sketches," Vol. X, Complete 
Works, p. 8; Houghton, Mifflin & Company, 1904. 

388 Scientific Method in the Interpretation of Dreams 

Greater precision must be conferred upon this concep 
tion by showing specifically in what ways, and by wha* 
associative mechanisms, the persevering and unadjustec 
stimuli evoke the dream-images. Granting that unadjustec 
stimuli persist in their effects upon dream life, or in othei 
terms, that primary stimulus-ideas may evoke secondary 
dream-images, and so on unto the third and fourth "genera- 
tions;" then, in what manner does the process go on or come 
to an end? The answer to this question is an eminently 
practical one, to which Psycho-analysis has already brought 
the complication of its own still immature formulation of 
Ab-reaction and of Catharsis. 35 The matter still requires 
further study. In particular, it is necessary to formulate, 
through specific examples, a conception which shall be the 
pendant or complement of the theory of the persevcration 
of the unadjusted, and which I will call the "resolution of 
the unadjusted." 

Already, I have taken the preliminary steps in this 
direction by adopting the' physiological conception of trial 
percepts and applying it to dream interpretation. As a 
result, I have come to regard the successive evocations of 
imagery in the dream and even their reciprocal adaptations 
under the influence of creative fancy, as being trial apper- 
ceptions or attempted responses to one or more cues, either 
sensory or psychic. 


The operation of any cue, waking or sleeping, implies 
the endeavor of the organism to provide a channel of escape- 
ment for the nervous excitation emanating from the stimulus. 
The best channels, of course, are furnished by those neuro- 
grams, or vestiges of previous experience, originally con- 
stellated with the stimulus-idea. Indeed, as in the Scratch- 
Reflex dream, we find that the stimulus does immediately 
tend to pass into such channels. But the. same example 
shows that it takes time for the excitation to raise into con- 
sciousness the image most closely related to, or agglutinated 
with, the stimulus; this being, no doubt, due to the passive 
inertia in the corresponding neurogram. Meantime, during 

Lydiard PI. Norton 389 

the apperceptive delay, the energy spills over into less 
appropriate neurograms, albeit they are more quickly 
mobilized, with the result of evoking bizarre imagery; what 
I have called trial apperceptions. 36 Sometimes, too, this is 
adequate to meet the situation; for the resolution of the 
unadjusted is complete so soon as the stimulus is drained 
off, re-distributed and dynamically absorbed, as in the case 
of mechanical "lost motion." A useful and intelligent 
solution is by no means requisite: mere rambling often 

Yet in sleep the process of trial-and-error may often 
result in highly constructive resolutions, as in what the 
French call r*eve utile. This is especially true in case the 
unadjusted cues are highly persistent psychic stimuli. Hsre, 
the excitation rises instead of seeming to wear down and can 
be followed in its working up, through trial-and-error, to 
the elaboration of a more or less logical response to the 
demands of the mental situation; after which, the excita- 
tion appears to trouble the sleeper no further. Unfortunate- 
ly, time does not permit my giving the examples I wo aid 
like of the varieties of resolutions in dreams with their 
every degree of relevancy and irrelevancy, of a propos and 
bizarrerie. Instead, I will briefly dwell on a suggestive 
example of mental adjustment to specific cues, in the waking 

A Japanese poetess is asked to combine into one word- 
picture the ideas of a triangle, of a square and of a circle. 
After a short pause, taken up (as we may believe) by what 
Ernst Mach calls the conflict of ideas, and which I think of 
as imageless trials and errors, the poetess evolves the follow- 
ing phantasy: "Detaching one corner of the mosquito 
netting, lo, I behold the moon. " This resolution left nothing 
to be desired. 

All resolutions of problems, of riddles, of charades, and, 
, according to my experience, most dreams if not all, represent 
a trial-and-error method of working out a reconciliation 
among unadjusted mental tendencies, the goal of which is 
illustrated by the case of the Japanese poetess. Dreams, 
however, usually exhibit only the preliminary efforts. Those 
are hidden in this example, which stands midway between 

39 Scientific Method in the Interpretation of Dreams 

the severe reasoning of Euclid and the free-play of a dreamer's 
response to the reproductive tendencies playing upon his 

As to the theory of the resolution of the unadjusted, I 
must resist the temptation to dwell on its many attractive 
phases, in bringing this discussion to a close. One of its 
neglected aspects, however, may be indicated within the 
present context, by remarking upon the feeling of incomplete- 
ness that would at this stage, be left in the mind of the 
hearer, if I should make an end, abruptly, like a phonograph 
stopped in the middle of a tune. My discourse would in- 
evitably be left at loose ends, owing to the persistency of a 
number of questions which have been raised, agitated, but 
not fully set at rest. These would continue to act as so 
many persisting and unadjusted stimulus-ideas. These are 
embodied in the feeling we now have, that a summary 
should be made of what has gone before concerning the 
Scratch-Reflex dream and the various methods of interpret- 
ing it. Thus, our "unfinished feeling" represents in itself 
an obscure demand for a resolution of the unadjusted; it 
corresponds to that inner compulsion which operates upon 
the imperfect consciousness of the dreamer, or upon the 
mentality of any person seeking the solution of a problem 
or "perplex/ 5 either asleep, or awake as I trust you all still 
remain. The present demand for the resolution of the un- 
adjusted must be met without going deeper into the theory 
of the matter. 37 


Accordingly, I will now point out the fact that the 
analysis of the Scratch-Reflex dream has been carried to the 
stage where the dream stands reconstituted as follows: 

It is an attempt of the nervous mechanism to resolve a 
specific sensory stimulus-idea (A) by the discharge of ner- 
vous energy into a previously prepared or "facilitated" 
set-of-the-mind or context (Hidden Z). This, in the pre- 
mises, happened to possess associative affinity for the stimu- 
lus, and was therefore, by the same token, chosen, i. <?., 
brought into play, as a spillway for the stimulus. The 

Lydiard H. Norton 391 

secondary images (C) in the dream, evoked by the deriva- 
tion of excitement through the channels of the given context 
(conversation with Dr, X-) are explained as forming in the 
order of their appearance a chain of apperceptive pictures, 
or trial-and-error series, whose links or steps approximate 
gradually to the characteristic features of the primary stimu- 
lus-idea (scratching sensation). But while regarding this 
immediate influence as the principal cue to memory^ (calling . 
it A), we must admit an ulterior influence or motive-power, 
itself in the nature of an accessory cue, namely a wish (B), 
revived along with the memory of the conversation* This 
wish (to substitute reflexology for histology) contributes a 
special configuration or phantastic, wishful arrangement to 
the group of successive trial apperceptions called forth by 
the physical stimulus (A). The corresponding motives of 
desire and of aversion, (concisely pictured as positive interest 
in the reflex and disinterest in the microscope), although 
seeming to spring out of the system of memories (Z), which 
form the context, are none the less separate from it as self- 
acting sources of stimulus, as a 'wish apart from the mere 
brute memory of the talk about reflexes. The wish is thus 
an accessory cue (B) operating in conjunction with the ex- 
ternal stimulus, although revived by the energy of the 
latter. In this case, the imaginary wish-fulfilment achieves 
an immediate, though limited, success. Correspondingly, 
it does not exhibit on its own account the feature of trial- 
and-error which we have learnt to recognize in the working 
of the unadjusted sensory stimulus (scratching). 

While this dream does not exemplify trial-and-error 
processes in response to a psychic cue, it is proper to state 
that the same mechanism can be demonstrated in the more 
purely psychic dreams, as well as in this one, wherein we 
have followed the trial apperceptions of a stimulus, from 
their incipience, to the point of awaking to a conscious 
recognition of the source of excitation. Moreover, by a 
more delicate and intricate use of the rec.onstitutive method 
it is possible to discover the stimulus-ideas in those cases 
where the dreamer is not able to testify to their character, 
as I was in this simple instance; purposely chosen, I may 
add, to outline the method in its simplest aspect. 

Scientific Method in the Interpretation of Dreams 

According to the reconstitutive method, a dream is 
sufficiently interpreted and explained by having formulated 
the operation of the several specific factors, as in the fore- 
going example; that is, no preconceptions as to content or 
meaning or transcendental symbols are imported into this 
sort of purely mechanistic interpretation. 


Unfortunately, the psycho-analyst, if he applies the 
current conceptions of symbolism, may well doubt whether 
the reconstitution has gone far enough, and whether all the 
stimulus-ideas, or all the wish-factors have been found. 
This is because he does not make it a rule to check up his 
guesses as to meaning, by specific investigations of the 
settings-of-ideas, by auscultating the so-called "fringe of 
thought, " or by laying out crucial tests for his own hypoth- 
esis in the given case. Such methods, which belong no 
less to general psychopathology than to the reconstitutive 
method, do not leave one free to argue from analogy; a 
privilege which most psycho-analysts enjoy, and have been 
known to abuse, as Freud and Jung themselves have done. 

It follows that one might properly expect the psycho- 
analyst to dwell especially upon the seemingly phallic 
"symbols" in the Scratch-Reflex dream, which could be 
made out in the geometrical features of the microscope and 
cover-glass. He would thus, as I have shown, be led to 
unearth a sexual motive which might be a marc's nest. 
This searching for sexual symbolism on a purely a priori 
basis, when no evidence internal or external, and no real 
clues to a sex idea exist, may become a mere obsession, a 
habit of interpretation which is not scientific at all. Unable 
to distinguish the subconscious operation, of a non-sexual 
context, from that of the more familiar sexual context, the 
interpreter is at the mercy of superficial resemblances be- 
tween the properties of the dream-objects and those of the 
well-known sexual symbols. The ambiguity which has 
resulted from this condition of affairs, maintains the Psycho- 
analytic Dilemma: that of not knowing when to stop in 
apperceiving sexual allusions. Indeed, it is part of the 

Lydiard H. Horton 393 

interpretative policy of psycho-analysts not to exclude 
sexual meanings, in case of doubt; but rather to take the 
sexual sense for granted. 

How far this policy has been carried may perhaps be 
suggested by the following instance: A well-known physio- 
logical psychologist, attempting to show the absurdity of 
extreme sexual interpretations, remarked to a well-known 
psycho-analyst that even the geometry of Euclid would, 
according to the methods under criticism, be open to the 
imputation of sexual motive. To this the psycho-analyst 
replied that he did not feel at all sure that Euclid might not 
have been inspired to write his Geometry by the sexual 
ideas which men have, from time immemorial, embodied in 
circles and triangles and diameters. This instance, be it 
said, implies no criticism of Psycho-analysis beyond the 
fact that its conception of symbols in dreams and elsewhere 
is transcendental and historical rather than truly psycho- 
logical as it purports to be; a state of opinion which the use 
of the reconstitutive methpd is calculated to correct. 

The difference between the psycho-analytic methods 
and the reconstitutive method, in a given case, is that the 
former assume the validity of sexual symbolism unless it 
can positively be proved absent, which is rarely attempted; 
whereas, the reconstitutive method assumes no symbolism 
and no meaning to be present in the mind of the dreamer 
except as the probability can be demonstrated by specific 
investigations and inferences as to the interplay of cues and 
contexts or apperception-masses. Moreover, a special tech- 
nique is used to study the "fringe." - 1 

Reverting for a moment to the sexual interpretations of 
the Scratch-Reflex dream that I manufactured by applying 
the Freudian ready-made symbolism, and, again, by imitat- 
ing the constructive fancy of Jung; they must both be 
judged as having no merit beyond, perhaps, that of coin- 
ciding with inherent probabilities in the premises. That is, 
what they purport to reveal might be made out of whole 
cloth to fit almost any unmarried man, barring a few in- 
dividual adaptations, to suit the known circumstances of the 
dreamer. As these interpretations stand, they do not fit 
the psychogenesis of the dream.. They are rank confabula- 

394 Scientific Method in the Interpretation of Dreams 

tions on my part; yet they appear to hold water, psycho- 

Enough has been said to suggest, I think, that while 
Dr. Freud may be honored as the father of dream analysis, 
with Dr. Jung as its foster-father, yet, to neither of these 
gentlemen of psycho-analytic fame should be conceded the 
right to bring up the "child!" That is a task for the 
psychologist, because he can afford to go deeper into normal 
processes than has so far been possible in psycho-analytic 
practice. But he must take pains to employ those scientific 
methods which comport the rigorous application of logic even 
to the vagaries of dreams, and the rejection of the argument 
from mere authority. Of such methods, the exemplars are 
to be found only among those writers who today are worthily 
carrying forward the mechanistic traditions originated by 
Descartes. In so far as psycho-analysts depart from these 
traditions and, relying on the authority of their leaders, 
follow them into metaphysical speculations about the Libido, 
and transcendental notions of symbolism, they are wander- 
ing on ground full of pitfalls to common sense. 


The question here considered is whether dream inter- 
pretations shall represent the state of the dreamer's mind 
or the mere fancy of the interpreter. Criticism is directed 
at the aprioristic and oftentimes hit-or-miss practices of the 
Vienna and Zurich schools of Psycho-analysis. 

For illustration, a simple dream is interpreted by the 
current methods of Psycho-analysis: first, according to the 
"reductive method" of Freud, it is made out as symbolizing 
an infantile and sexual wish-fulfilment, expressing a "voyeur" 
component of the Libido. Secondly, the dream is re-inter- 
preted by Jung's "constructive method" so as to gloss over 
the gross Freudian phallicism. It is now made to mean that 
the dreamer is impelled to higher biological duties, namely 
marriage and professional success. 

Lydiard H. Norton 395 

The plausibility of these interpretations once shown, 
they are next proved to be wide of the mark, by the fact that 
the dream can be more adequately accounted for in another 
way, i. <?., by a proposed "reconstitutive method." This 
method aims to "reconstitute" the dream-thought (both 
imaged and imageless) by tracing the wave of nervous ex- 
citation from its origin in primary stimulus-ideas (sensory 
or psychic) through a specific apperception-mass into a con- 
sequently derived system of secondary images, which form 
the manifest dream content. The derivation of the secon- 
ary images must be concretely followed through the authen- 
ticated channels of association not assumed on the basis of 
"fixed symbolism/' or any other a priori conception. 

The reconstitution of this particular dream illustrates 
the reductio ad absurdum of the two previous psycho-analytic 
" solutions. " The fact that either of them would apparently 
have satisfied the demands of the problem, is characterized 
as an artifact evolved through the interpreter's deliberate 
confabulation and forcing of analogy; thus causing the scant 
data of the dream to fall into artificial agreement with the 
preconceived notions of the Vienna and Zurich schools, 
respectively. As a guarantee of scientific accuracy, it is 
urged that the interpreter trace the process of imageless 
thought (Woodworth) back of the dream, and, in particular, 
seek the meaning in the Unconscious Settings-of-Ideas 
(Prince). The reconstitutive method is the extension of 
these two formulations from normal and abnormal psychol- 
ogy into the field of dream analysis, through the study of 
Individual Differences (Cattell) and the Application of Logic 
(Alfred Sidgwick). 

It is not denied that Freud's dream theories serve very 
well to interpret a considerable proportion of common 
dreams; but the psycho-analytic technique embodies a 
fallacious assumption that there is a transcendental sym- 
bolizing activity in the Unconscious, as it were a language of 
dreams. This gives rise to a biased "will to interpret. " 
The alleged meaning may thus often be the work of the in- 
terpreter's mind although not that in the dreamer's mind. 

The reconstitutive method brings into relief the trial- 
and-error character of the dreaming process: the organism 

396 Scientific Method in the Interpretation of Dreams 

as attempting the physiological resolution of persisting and 
unadjusted stimulus-ideas. Psychologically speaking, the 
images evoked in the dream are called trial percepts or trial 
apperceptions of the stimulus-ideas, corresponding more or 
less closely to the latter; not through analogy necessarily, 
but through mere contiguity, as the case may be. 

In certain cases, the erroneous apperceptions are ob- 
served to form a series of approximations to the correct 
apprehension of one of the stimulus-ideas at a time. In 
other cases, the apperceptive errors may take the form of a 
blended reaction to two or more cues, more or less perfectly 

These mechanisms, when they go wrong, as they often 
do, produce the incoherency and bizarrerie of the dream j 
but they do not preclude a significant reconstitution of the 
process of which the dream is a by-product. Such rccon- 
stitutions require to be validated by specific tests and in- 
ferences, of such logical character as to bear comparison 
with the methodology of other sciences. The psycho- 
analytic arguments from analogy, from precedent and from 
authority are alike to be rejected. 


1. Emerson, R. W., "Demonology," 1839; Vol. X, Complete 

Works, 1904; Hough ton, MifHin & Company, Boston. 

2. Freud, Sigmund, "Die Traumdeutung;" Three editions, 

1900, 1909, 1911; Franz Deutike, Leipzig und Wien. 

3. Same work, A, A. Brill trans., "The Interpretation of 

Dreams," 1914; The Macmillan Company, New York. 

4. Jung, C. G., "Studies in Psychoanalysis," Psychoanalytic 

Review and Monograph, 1914; Journal of Nervous and 
Mental Diseases Company, New York. 

5. Internationale Zeitschrift fur Aerztliche Psychoanalyse, Offi- 

cielles Organ der Internat. Psychoarialitischen Vereini- 
gung; first number, 1913; Heller pub., Leipzig und Wien, 

6. Jung, C. G., " Psychoanalysis, " An address before the Psycho- 

Medical Society of London, 1913, August; Transactions 
of the Society. 

7. Prince, M., "The Mechanism and Interpretation of 

Dreams" A Reply to Dr. Jones; Journal of Abnormal 
Psychology,i<)io; See especially pp. 248 et seq. 

Lydiard H. Horton 397 

8. Jung, C. G., "Morton Prince, M. D.: 'The Mechanism. . . 

etc., 3 A Critical Treatment ;' * Jahrbuch fur Psyckoanaly- 
tischen Forshungen, 1910-11. 

9. Freud; See (3) page 81, on symbolical method. 

10. Freud, "Ueber den Traum;" translator M. E. Eder, "On 

Dreams," 19143 Rebman Co., New York; compare views 
in (6) with Chapter XII, esp. page 105. cf. p. 106, 
"unconscious thinking." 

11. Emerson, R. W., "The Poet," Complete Works, Vol. Ill pp. 


12. Freud, "Interpretation of Dreams," p. 243. 

13. Russell, Bertrand: Lowell Lectures, 1914; Cf. Lect. VIII,* 

pp. 219, sec. 2, 222, sec. 2; Title, "Scientific Method in 
Philosophy," Open Court Publishing Company, Chicago, 

14. James, William, " Principles . . . .," 1,270; Algebra-analogy; 

see also " Fringe," p. 258. 

15. Hobbes, Thomas, "Leviathan," Chapt. III. 

16. Sidgwick, Alfred, "The Application of Logic," 1910; The 

Macmillan Co.; especially pp. 93-94. 

17. Delage, Ives, "Une Theorie de Reves," Revue Scientifique, 

II, July, 1891. 

18. Prince, "The Unconscious," 1914; The Macmillan Co.; (a) 

"The Meaning of Ideas as Determined by Unconscious 
Settings;" (b) Role of same in phobia: especially p. 389, 
footnotes pp. 392-3, 408. Also, Journ. Ab. Psychology; 
(a) Oct.-Nov., 1912; (b) Oct.-Nov., 1913, 

19. Ebbinghaus, "Abriss der Psychologic;" Max Meyer's ver- 

sion, Cf. pp. 94-5; "Ebbinghaus's Psychology," 1908; 
D. C. Heath & Co., Boston. 

20. " Inventorial Record Forms of Use in the Analysis of Dreams," 

Jour. Ab. Psychology, Feb.-Mar., 1914. 

21. Descartes, Rene, "Discours de la Methode pour bien con- 

duire sa raison et chercher la verite dans les sciences;" 
Leyde, 1637. 

22. Spencer, Herbert, "The Physiology of Laughter," 1860; in 


23. Fontenelle, B. le B. de, "Entretiens sur la Pluralite des 

Mondes," 1686. 

24. Freud, "Interpretation of Dreams," pp. 237-9. 

25. Freud, "Drei Abhandlungen . . . ," trans.: "Three Contri- 

butions to the Sexual Theory," Monograph, Journ. 
Nerv. and Mental Dis. Co., New York, 1909. 

26. Jones, Ernest, "Papers on Psycho-Analysis, " Chapter XX; 

^ W. Wood & Co., 1913. 

27. Prince, "The Unconscious;" doctrine of secondary images. 

398 Scientific Method in the Interpretation of Dreams 

28. Galton, Francis, "Inquiries into Human Faculty/ 7 1883: 

Macmillan; see essays on association, doctrine of blends. 

29. James, William, "Principles . . . ;" The Mental Cue, II, 

497, 518; for phrase, "Talks to Teachers," p. ix 118, 
1900; Henry Holt & Co,, New York. 

30. Sherrington, C. S., " Integra tive Action of the Nervous 

System," 1906; Scribners, New York. 

31. Bechterew, W. von, "Objective Psychologic oder Psycho- 

. reflexologie, " 1913; from the Russian, B. G. Teubner, 
Leipzig and Berlin. 

Pavlow, "Study of the Higher Mental Functions," British 
Medical Journal., October, 1913. 

32. Ladd & Woodworth, " Elements of Physiological Psychology/* 

1911; p. 594; Charles Scribner's Sons, New York. 

33. Wqodworth, R. S., "A Revision of Imageless Thought," in 
Psychological Review, January, 1915; Presidential Address, 

American Psychological Association, Philadelphia, 1914, 
December. See esp. pp. 26-27. 

34. Hobbes, "Leviathan," Chapter II; cf. Compound imagina- 


35. Freud, "Selected Papers on Hysteria and other Psycho- 

neuroses;" trans. A. A. Brill, Monograph, Journ. Nerv. 
and Ment. Dis. Co., 1909, New York; pp. 5, and 177. 

36. Spencer's conception of the escapement of nervous excitation 

is fundamental in connection with the dream theory here 
sketched: see the essays on Laughter and on Music, also 
many passages in the Synthetic Philosophy (Biology, 
Psychology), This conception is not to be confused 
with Janet's idea of "derivation," as stated in "Obsessions 
et Psychasthenie. " The present formulation of the 
meaning of " apperceptive delay" in dreaming is based 
on the neurographic hypothesis, ("The Unconscious," 
Chapt. V.), and may be more precisely stated as 
follows : 

In the given instance, the original or primary neuro- 
gram possessed a certain passive inertia in responding to 
the stimulus, and it took a relatively long time for the 
excitation to raise the neururgic tonus of this primary 
neurogram so as to attain the level requisite for conscious 
imagination. But it was otherwise with the secondary 
or sequential neurograms, whose inertia had already been 
overcome by the facilitation (Bahnung) of the recent 
conversation about scratch-reflexes. For these neuro- 
grams to flash their imaged (conscious) equivalents into 
the dream-thought, it was enough that there should be a 
slight spill-over of excitation from the original neuro- 

Lydiard H~ Horton 399 

Many examples could be cited from dreams, drowsy 
states and lapses of thought, showing the ways in which 
sequential neurograms produce trial apperceptions, pend- 
ing the final revelation, through consciousness, of the 
original neurogram. The phenomenon of mental grop- 
ing, here alluded to, is familiar in certain aspects; but, as 
an explanation of cryptic dreams, has not received the 
recognition that it deserves. Hence, the trial-and-error 
theory of dreams. 

c Perplex , " neologism of the writer; used to indicate a phe- 
nomenon frequent in both normal and psychopathic sub- 
jects; to wit, a group of delimitable stimulus-ideas, per- 
sisting as such, and unadjusted a complex of persisting 

and unadjusted stimulus-ideas, demanding resolution; 
not the same as <c complex" in Psycho-analysis. Cf. 
Prince's definitions of the varieties of complexes ("The 




Demonaic possession of the middle ages and of 
times nearer to our own was largely hysterical in 
character, and generally occurred in Epidemics. 
It was associated with the more superstitious and 
emotional side of religious beliefs, where a real Hell fire and a 
personal Devil with attendant Angels or Demons were be- 
lieved in, and feared, much more intensely and widely than 
they are today even amongst the ignorant and superstitious, 
while suggestion and contagion played a large part in its 
spread, as it did in that other and more hateful form of it 
known as witchcraft. 

Esquirol who wrote clearly about it in his "Maladies 
Mentales" under the heading of "Demonomania, J?1 spoke of 
it as being propagated "by contagion, and by the force of 
imitation. " This was illustrated in the Epidemic of Loudun, 
amongst others referred to by him. This epidemic spread 
to neighbouring towns, menaced all the high Langucdoc, but 
was arrested by the wisdom of a Bishop, who did this by 
depriving the movement of its marvellous elements. In this 
epidemic form it was in its bodily and mental manifestations 
really hysteria with characteristic stigmata and convulsions. 
An excellent example of this religious hysteria was presented 
as recently as 1857 in an epidemic at Moraines in upper 
Savoy. It began with two little girls, pious and precocious^ 
who had convulsive attacks. It spread to other children and 
then to adults. Amongst the younger of those affected, 
ecstasy, catalepsy, and somnambulism were seen, and later,, 
convulsions only; convulsive attacks returned several times 
a day. An attack usually began with yawning, restless 
movements, the aspects of fear passing into fury with violent 
and impulsive movements, with vociferations and cries that 
they were lost souls in hell, the mouth-piece of the devil. 

a detailed account of it see the "Dictionary of Psychological Medicine* 11 
under the heading "Demonomania." 


Donald Fraser, M. D 401 

etc. These attacks would last from ten minutes to half an 
hour. A feature of this epidemic was the absence of coarse 
and erotic speech or gestures. Between the convulsions the 
victims were restless, idle and inattentive, being altered in 
character for the worse. In our day such epidemics are 
represented, though in tamer fashion, by Revivalism in its 
more noisy and extravagant eruptions. At all times, even 
when such manifestations are not much if at all out of har- 
mony with ordinary religious feeling and action, there is a 
tendency to pathological conditions. Often its subjects, in 
the words of Professor James 2 " carry away a feeling of its 
being a miracle rather than a natural process, voices are 
often heard, lights seen, or visions witnessed; automatic 
motor phenomena occur; and it always seems after the sur- 
render of the personal will as if an extraneous higher power 
had flooded in and taken possession." These are some of 
the more striking phenomena of mysticism, and are also 
largely pathological being amongst the major symptoms of 
hysteria. The history and course of our case illustrated 
very well this mixed condition. It has been pointed out that 
the ecstasies, trances, etc., of the mystic, while essentially 
pathological, have the evil effects of such morbid manifesta- 
tions modified or largely neutralized by the idealism behind 
them, by that measure of true religious faith and feeling 
which dominates the whole process in the case at least of the 
higher mystics. The ore may be rough and very mixed, 
but the precious metal is there also, as it was in our patient, 
though the divine influence for which she craved was per- 
verted into that of the "Evil one." In the individual cases 
described by Esquirol we recognize a more profound mental 
disturbance than is shown in the epidemic or hysterical 
variety. We indeed see many similar cases in our asylums 
though we generally speak of them as Religious Melancholies 
rather than as Demonomaniacs. In such cases recovery is 
slow or may not occur, the patient passing into a state of 
chronic mania, or of Dementia. There are other cases where 
the religious emotions and ideals are completely subordinated 
to or become identified with feelings of fear or remorse, the 

2 The Varieties of Religious Experience; William James p. 228. 

402 A Case of Possession 

result of fixed ideas of a shameful, distressing or frightsome 
character. A good example of this condition though essen- 
tially hysterical in its nature, is detailed by Pierre Janet. 3 
The patient, a neurotic, respectable business man thirty- 
three years of age, a good husband and father, on his return 
from a business journey of some weeks' duration is found to 
have become depressed and taciturn, and as the days pass 
his melancholy deepens. At first he would not speak, but 
soon when he wished to speak could not, making vain at- 
tempts at articulation. Under the influence of medical ideas 
suggested to him his symptoms simulate first Diabetes next 
Heart disease and his prostration becomes profound. By 
and bye he passes into a state only to be described as acute 
Demonomania marked by maniacal outbreaks in which he 
cried out and blasphemed, lamenting in quieter intervals 
his powerlessness to resist the Devil who was, he believed, 
actually not figuratively within him, who spoke and blas- 
phemed through him, prevented him sleeping, etc. After 
some months he was sent to the Salpetriere where he came 
under the observation of Charcot and Pierre Janet. He was 
cured by means of suggestion by the latter, who also ascer- 
tained by his methods that the illness was the result of 
remorse for - an offence committed during the business 
journey which preceded the outbreak. 

In many ways our case differs from cases of this type. 
An important difference was in the intermittent character 
of the symptoms. For a period of two years the patient 
alternated between a condition of acute misery from the 
delusion that the evil one had entered- into her body, and one 
of apparent sanity. At the end of two years she was dis- 
missed cured, and has remained well for several years. She 
differed also in the absence of blasphemous, extravagant or 
obscene speech or action. The Devil never at any time 
used her as the mouthpiece for devilish words or thoughts. 
He was there, and as she insisted, in bodily form within her, 
making her intensely miserable by his presence, and with the 
feeling that she was cast away from "grace" and the privi- 
leges of the religious life. Nor were there, as in the case 

a "Nevroses et Idees Fixes" Vol. I, p. 377. 

Donald Eraser, M. ZX 403 

above referred to shameful or remorseful complexes at the 
root of her mental condition. In presenting the facts of the 
case, names and special marks of identification have been 

Mrs- A., a widow, aged fifty- two years, was admitted 
to the Paisley District Asylum in 1910 with a history of 
having suffered for a month previously from mental depres- 
sion said to be due to distressing delusions of a religious 
character such as that she was lost, was past forgiveness, 
and dominating and originating all such thoughts was the 
belief that she was possessed by Satan or an evil spirit, who 
was in bodily form within her. This delusion caused her 
acute misery, and so absorbed her thoughts that she had 
ceased to take any interest in her household affairs, and had 
even talked of suicide. 

Her condition on admission and for two years subse- 
quently was that of recurring states of this acute mental 
distress, when she would rock to and fro, moaning and cry- 
ing out, often with tears over her lost and dreadful state, and 
the presence in her inside of Satan or the "Evil one" 
whom she said she felt within her, and who made her "re- 
pulsive. " This condition was varied with intervals of 
usually from one to three days of apparently complete sanity, 
when though quiet and somewhat reserved in manner, she 
was quite cheerful. When questioned at such times as to 
her delusion, she would admit its absurdity, but refer to an 
uneasy sensation in the region of the left hypochondrium, 
which, as she put it, surely meant that there was something 
wrong there. She would be occasionally normal in this way 
for a week or more, and on more than one occasion was so 
well as to be allowed out on parole, but had often to be 
brought back next day as depressed and delusive as ever. 
She was always worse in the mornings, and often improved 
as the day went on. She was a stout, pleasant featured and 
intelligent woman, somewhat anaemic, and with a slight 
bluish tinge of lips, though beyond a lack of tone in sounds, 
the heart was normal. Her anaemic condition was accounted 
for by her having suffered from menorrhagia for the greater 
part of two years, which only stopped a few months before 
her admission to the Asylum. It had during its continuance 

404 A Case of Possession 

brought on breathlessness on exertion, and what she called 
spasms or "grippings at the heart," no doubt the basis of her 
uneasy feelings in left hypochondrium. There was a slight 
enlargement of the thyroid gland, but no symptoms refer- 
able to it. None of these physical conditions beyond the 
"grippings at the heart" it maybe, appeared to have any 
appreciable influence on her mental condition, which as has 
been noted above was normal until a month before her ad- 
mission. An interesting feature of the case was the relation 
between her blood pressure and her varying mental states. 
Her blood pressure was taken with a Riva Rocci Sphygmo- 
manometer morning and evening, sometimes oftener, during 
the greater part of 1912-13, and it was noted that her de- 
pressed or delusional states were marked by a low pressure, 
while a high or relatively high pressure marked her sane and 
cheerful states, contrary to what is usually observed in mel- 
ancholia, though similar to what is seen in agitated melan- 
cholia and mania. 4 Thus at a pressure of J^O^HQ, she was 
generally very well; at or about 1 2O 7/ Ho she was often well; at 
IIO"HG or I OO^HG she was always ill. When recovering, and 
few weeks before dismissal there was a fairly steady pressure 
of nH"H G to i2o"HG day after day. It had been also noted 
throughout, that during a continuous period of depression or 
of well-being, the pressure kept steadily high or low day after 
day according to the mental condition. There was obvious- 
ly then a constant and close relationship between her blood 
pressure and her mental states. At first sight it looked as 
though those states were directly affected by the varying 
pressure as it may have influenced the nutrition and there- 
fore the functions of the brain, and on physiological grounds 
it is difficult to exclude such an influence altogether, even 
though we come to the conclusion as we did that the varia- 
tions followed the emotional conditions, and did not precede 
or cause them. The broad general statement has been made 
that "each pleasurable emotion raises the general blood 
pressure and increases the blood flow through the brain and 
each painful emotion brings about the opposite result." 5 

4 Maurice Craig, Lancet June 2$, 1898. 
"Leonard Hill, "Cerebral Circulation " p. 74. 

Donald Fraser^ M. D. 405 

It cannot be said, however, that increased blood pressure 
will give pleasurable emotion. The splanchnic area can be 
acted on so as to raise the blood pressure without influencing 
the emotions* We know also that when it is raised in melan- 
cholia the increased pressure is associated with the reverse of 
pleasurable emotion. Still on therapeutical as well as on other 
grounds it appeared to us important to determine what, if 
any, influence the raising of her blood pressure by drugs or 
otherwise would have on her mental state. We did this by 
baths, by abdominal pressure by means of a large sand-bag 
laid over the abdomen, and by such drugs as adrenalin and 
pituitrin. The results were disappointing so far as therapy 
was concerned though of interest otherwise. The pressure 
was raised by all these measures without any improvement 
following such as occurred when it rose naturally. The rise 
by abdominal pressure was marked and occurred quickly, 
but without any apparent effect on her mental condition. 
When it was raised to i4o"H G under the influence of pituitrin 
there was marked depression as is shown in the chart for 
July, 1912. Pituitrin given in m. v. hypodermically three 
times a day, and after some days in larger doses by the 
mouth, kept the pressure between I25"H G and i3o"H G , but 
-with no corresponding mental improvement. For some days 
after the pituitrin was stopped its influence seemed to persist 
as the pressure kept high while the mental condition was low. 
One of her longest spells of continuous mental depression 
which lasted for twenty-seven days, occurred while her 
pressure was high under the influence of adrenalin. Digitalis, 
by the way, had no influence in any way on either her blood 
pressure or her mental condition. The only drug we found 
of any value was tinctopii in moderate doses three times a 
day, but it gradually ceased to do any good. 

Four charts from a very large number are given which 
illustrate the above points. 

It must be understood that these experiments while 
accurate so far as they go, and carefully conducted under 
my supervision by a competent assistant, were not made in 
a well appointed laboratory, but were clinical observations 
made in the crowded ward of a hospital for the insane. The 
central disturbance here was the result of shock from sudden 

406 A Case of Possession 

and excessive fear acting on a highly sensitive subject as will 
appear later. It has been shown by Cannon 6 that such 
major emotions as fear, rage, or pain acting upon the adrenal 
glands through the autonomic nervous system are accom- 
panied by an increased discharge of adrenalin into the blood, 
and by a passing of stored glycogen from the liver for circula- 
tion through the body as dextrose, the object of which is the 
increasing and liberation of muscular energy for the animal's 
successful flight or fight. This discharge takes place very 
quickly, and we are told that fright exhausts the adrenal 
glands, a somewhat puzzling statement at first sight, but 
borne out by the experience of our case where a fall of pres- 
sure occurred under the paralyzing effect of extreme fear 
and distress continued not merely for minutes but for hours 
at a time. By and bye as her distress lessened and her ex- 
pression of it became more and more automatic, there was a 
return to the normal adrenal discharge and consequent nor- 
mal rise in pressure. It is possible, of course, that there may 
be another explanation in the inhibition of metabolism 
caused by fear. Most of us have experienced the arrest of 
salivation and digestion under the influence of fear or rage. 
This inhibition would affect the products upon which the 
adrenal secretion depends, but the more likely cause is where 
this fear, in this case really a recurring representation of the 
original shock, acts through the aiitonomic nervous system 
on the adrenal glands. The emotional disturbance here then 
was primarily of central origin, and was certainly not origi- 
nated by circulatory or visceral changes which were second- 
ary to it, and the facts do not support the James, Lange 
theory of the emotions as it is generally understood. In 
this connection we may refer very briefly to the laboratory 
experiments of Sherrington 7 and Bechterew. 8 The former 
by spinal and vagal transection in a dog removed "com- 
pletely the sensation of the viscera, of all the skin and muscle 
behind the shoulder. The procedure at the same time cuts 

6 The interrelations of emotion as suggested by W. B. Cannon. Recent 
physiological researches, The American Journal of Psychology, April, 
*The Integration of the Nervous System Sherrington. 
8 Bechterew "La psychologic objective,** p. 312. 

Donald Fraser, M. D. 407 

From connection with the organs of consciousness the whole 
Df the circulatory apparatus of the body. Yet the dog ex- 
hibited rage, fear, disgust, etc., under appropriate stimuli as 
a normal dog might do." The conclusion reached after 
admitting possible objections to them is that, "the vaso- 
motor theory of the production of emotion becomes, I think, 
untenable, also that visceral presentations are necessary to 
emotion. " Bechterew, discussing this question as to whether 
the vascular changes are anterior to the other processes, 
which determine the alterations of the neuropsychic tone 
according to the James, Lange theory, states that the experi- 
ments in his laboratory by Dr. Serenewsky, appear to lead 
to an opposite conclusion having shown that under the effects 
Df fear the alteration of the neuropsychic tone is produced 
before the appearance of the cardiovascular phenomena. 
There are no doubt objections to accepting laboratory ex- 
periments upon inferior animals as conclusive where the 
psychic part of the process in question is after all the domi- 
nant one, nor must we forget that biochemical changes may 
DC as important as the integrity of nerves. We have how- 
rver referred to these experiments because of their bearing 
Dn the conclusions to be drawn from the above described 
:linical facts which so far as the initiation of the emotional 
process is concerned confirm them; though we feel that the 
Dodily concomitants of the emotion are essential to its full 
development, and that we owe much to James's presentation 
sf his theory even admitting its "slap dash 3 ' 9 character to 
ise his own phrase. It was to be expected that the arti- 
icially raised blood pressure would have had some effect in 
mproving the patient's mental condition, and in the case of 
idrenalin, at any rate, some such effect should have occurred 
f we are to accept the recently published conclusions of 
Drile 10 to the effect that "adrenalin causes increased brain 
iction, " "that brain and adrenalin action go hand in hand, 
:hat is, that the adrenal secretion activates the brain, and 
;hat the brain activates the adrenals." More in harmony 

9 Psychological Review, Vol. I, where Prof. James admits the defective pre- 
eiitation of his theory and uses the above words to express it. He gives all due 
mportance to the associated memories, and ideas to which are related the incom- 
ng currents as well as all pleasure and pain tone connected with them, etc. 

1 S. W. Crile, "The Origin and Nature of the Emotions, " 1915. 

408 A Case of Possession 

with the clinical experiences here is the fact according to 
Biedl 11 "that the adrenalin affects the intracranial and the 
pulmonary vessels only slightly if at all. " We presume that 
what is true of adrenalin in this respect will be true of all 
drugs which increase blood pressure. And while the rise of 
the arterial pressure generally will accelerate the flow of 
blood through the brain, yet we know that the cerebral 
circulation is in "all physiological conditions, but slightly 
variable." 12 Besides, while that increased flow must neces- 
sarily lead to increased cerebral activity, that activity may 
be pathological as well as physiological, as in our patient, 
who was quite uninfluenced mentally by the rise of blood 
pressure which followed the administration of those drugs. 
The nature and genesis of the emotional disturbance in this 
case may be understood from the following history and 

She had married happily at the age of nineteen years, 
had a family of eight children, but had been a widow for 
about twenty years. Her husband died suddenly abroad, 
where she had lived .with her family for two years after his 
death, and acting on the advice of her friends, she came 
back to this country bringing all her children with hen 
This involved her in years of struggle and anxiety to bring 
them up creditably, which she managed to do. During all 
these years of widowhood and stress she was mentally well, 
and latterly she described her life a's a happy one surrounded 
as she was by an affectionate and well doing family. She 
had been brought up in a puritan household. Her father 
and her husband had been deeply and consistently religious 
though strict in their belief and observance of the letter- 
This upbringing favoured a natural tendency towards relig- 
ious mysticism which was also promoted by the creed of 
the church to which she latterly belonged, and of which she 
was a deaconess. In this church the "gift of tongues " and 
of "prophesying" was recognized as a part of its heritage, 
and as she informed me in one of her normal times, she 
occasionally spoke or prophesied in the public assemblies of 
the congregation, I gathered that her utterances were gen- 

1:L Biedl innere secretion Quoted by Cannon, 2 ed. 1913. 
ia Leonard Hill The Cerebral Circulation. 

Donald Fraser^ M. D. 409 

erally but a word or two of exhortation or pious aspiration, 
given expression to in a moment of exaltation. From her 
description of her state at such times, she was carried out of 
herself, was oblivious for the moment of the presence and 
actions of those about her, was in short in a state of ecstasy 
when she "prophesied." A natural tendency to self-depre- 
ciation, and to ideas of unworthiness asserted themselves 
outside of those periods of exaltation, which were generally 
followed by doubts as to her fitness to take part in such work, 
and by the feeling as she expressed it "that she had presumed 
as she was unworthy, " and that God would be angry with 
her for her presumption* Throughout her religious life she 
had been always lacking in "assurance." Latterly this 
feeling had grown in her and was evidently part of a deeper 
feeling of mental depression, as she began to think often, 
and with a feeling of dread that she had been surely too 
happy these later years which stood in such contrast to the 
poverty, struggles and disappointments of the early years of 
her widowhood. This was her mental condition for some 
little time before her attack of acute mental disturbance 
which began one night a month before admission to the 
asylum. She went to bed feeling ill and shivering as if from 
a chill. In the middle of the night she woke up in a fright 
from a vivid dream the contents of which merged in a strong 
sensation as of a hand being pressed on her shoulder. She 
described the sensation as being that of a positive feeling of 
pressure, and with it came a feeling of dread, and the con- 
viction that it was the hand of Satan, so that she cried out 
aloud to him to go out of the house, as it was blessed, referring 
to the fact, as is the custom in her church that the minister 
had blessed the house when she went to live in it. She 
thought of calling to her daughter who was asleep near her, 
but did not, and after a time fell asleep again being "com- 
forted by the feeling that the Lord would take care of her. " 
Next morning the effects of the "chill" had passed off, but 
there was left a more or less constant feeling of vague dread 
and fear of death, and with this a haunting.idea born of this 
strongly felt hallucination of external touch, that Satan was 
within her. The feelings of dread and fear grew steadily, 
and became too strong for her faith in the Lord taking care 

41 o A Case of Possession 

of her, and very quickly her obsession as to possession by 
Satan, became the definite delusion it was on admission to 
the asylum. Hallucinations of what might be termed inter- 
nal touch leading to this idea of possession, are not unknown 
in the annals of mysticism of the more morbid types of it. 
Indeed the more ecstatic the mystic becomes, the more he 
merges himself in his feelings and tends to develop hallucina- 
tory sensations. He is possessed, and desires to be possessed, 
fortunately for him, by the Divine and not the evil spirit. 
Hallucinations of exernal touch are as might be expected 
more rare, though not uncommon we understand in the more 
abnormal types, and occur in people supposed to be normal. 
Havelock Ellis tells of a "Farmer's daughter who dreamt 
that she saw a brother, dead some years, with blood stream- 
ing from his fingers. She awoke in a fright and was com- 
forting herself with the thought that it was only a dream 
when she felt a hand grip her shoulder three times in succes- 
sion. There was no one in the room, the door was locked 
and no explanation seemed possible to her. She was very 
frightened, got up at once, dressed, and spent the rest of that 
night downstairs working. She was so convinced that a 
real hand had touched her, that although it seemed impossi- 
ble, she asked her brothers if they had not been playing a 
trick on hen The nervous shock was considerable, and she 
was unable to sleep well for some weeks afterwards. " The 
writer's 13 explanation is : " it is well recognized that involun- 
tary muscular twitches may occur in the shoulder, especially 
after it has become subject to pressure, and that in some cases 
such contractions may simulate a touch." In illustration 
of this he quotes from the Psychical Society's Report on the 
"Census of Hallucination'' the case of an overworked, and 
overworried man who, a few minutes after leaving a car, 
had the vivid feeling that someone had touched him on the 
shoulder, though on turning round he had found no one near. 
He then remembered that on the car he had been leaning on 
an iron bolt, and therefore what he had experienced was 
doubtless a spontaneous muscular contraction excited by the 
pressure. Touches felt on awakening in correspondence 
with a dream are not so very uncommon. We think as to 

World of Dreams," p. 182. 

Donald Fraser, M. D. 41 1 

this likely enough explanation, that whatever the local 
sensation may have been, or however slight, as it probably 
was, it could only give rise to an hallucination of having 
been touched by some external personality when it was 
absorbed into, and became a part of a considerable emotional 
disturbance as in the case of the girl above referred to, and 
of my patient, in both cases associated with a frightsome 
dream. The illness of the latter began with a dream, and 
its continuance was in our opinion, largely due to dreams of 
a painful character. During the whole period of her resi- 
dence it was noted that she dreamt a great deal, and that 
they were terrifying or alarming dreams, and that her bad 
days were generally preceded by a bad dream. Notes of her 
dreams were regularly made, at one time for ten consecutive 
nights, and only three of them were so far as she remembered 
free from dreams. All of her dreams she described as "aw- 
ful. " Many of them were of being mixed up with objection- 
able people who 'behaved roughly and used profane language, 
but, and of this she was very certain, who never talked or 
acted obscenely. She frequently dreamt of being on high 
precipitous places from which she was either falling, or could 
not get away from. She described one vivid dream during 
which she suffered great misery, and awoke from in great 
distress. She dreamt that she was listening to a preacher 
with open Bible in his hand, that he spoke about Peter whom 
he was accusing of disobedience; a number of people were 
present but she saw particularly only one man who looked 
very happy; the sermon ended, and she awoke in "agony," 
this feeling being due, she said, to the conviction present with 
her, that the sermon, and the man's happiness were intended 
to show her how much she had lost since she was cut off from 
"grace" by Satan dwelling in her body. Again she dreamt 
of a near relative whom she heard singing, "And they all 
.speak in tongues to magnify the Lord." This brought 
sorrow to her of which she was conscious during the dream 
and after she awoke as she thought Satan was putting this 
before her to show her what she had lost. In another dream 
she saw three unpleasant looking men talking together. The 
looking of them of Jewish appearance, came close to 
s ce, and argued with her about the evil spirit. She 

412 A Case of Possession 

said "he was in her body," and he answered "away with 
him. " She fell asleep and dreamt the same dream again. 
These dreams were obviously governed by her dread and 
fear as to her religious position. The following one is some- 
what different: "A big brown beast came up to her and 
pressed against her face; she slept again and dreamt she was 
in a big ship sailing in black and dirty water; that she tried 
hard to get out of the ship, but could not, and awoke in great 
distress/' We presume Freudians would find in the latent 
content of all these dreams, particularly in this last one, 
evidence in favour of their positions, though to us they 
reveal only, in the blurred and broken way dreams do, the 
prevailing trend of thoughts governed by morbid religious 
fears and garbed in the phraseology and symbolism of a 
Judaic faith. The sameness of their ending and meaning to 
her being obviously due to their relation to the dream which 
ushered in her illness to which indeed most of them were 
closely related in geneses and content. No doubt Freudian 
psychoanalysis would be able to carry her memory back into 
the region of long forgotten infantile or early sex memories 
where, as in every normal human being they lie, the shadowy 
outlines of instinctive feelings whose roots are in a far away, 
phylogenetic past, having apart from suggestion no role as 
factors in the production of morbid fears or fancies. The 
fantastical and too often repulsive dream interpretations of 
this school forcibly remind us of the words of Lord Bacon, 
"With regard to the interpretation of natural dreams it is a 
thing that has been laboriously handled by many writers, 
but it is full of follies. '* All kinds of trivial incidents of 
childhood and early youth are stored up by all of us, and are 
recalled in sudden and unexpected ways, but not because of 
any relaxation of a supposed "censor," nor necessarily be- 
cause of any content of a sex nature, but because they are 
more often than not associated with fear, chief of the coarser 
emotions, and a more primitive and more enduring emotion 
than any of those connected with reproduction, and more 
alien to the organism, than sex memories even of a perverse 
order, their resurrection being due to some subtle association 
between the present and the past, generally a sensory oij tsc 
visual or auditory most frequently. In our own case V 

Donald Eraser -, M. D. 413 

earliest recollections of childhood are so associated and 
recollected. Sunshine amongst trees, and birds singing 
bring back to us at very long intervals a country scene 
where as a child we were frightened by threats of a " bogie 
man." The only childish incidents which unexpectedly 
recur with us were associated with childish fears and 
disappointments of a usual and ordinary character never 
with morbid elements or emotional complexes which were 
repressed or censored in the Freudian sense, and in this we 
are not singular. 

Again and again, association tests, as prescribed by 
Jung, and repeated examinations of a psychological charac- 
ter were made without our being able to obtain the slightest 
indication of their being erotic or similar influences of the 
slightest value as factors in the causation of her mental dis- 
turbance. The chief value of Jung's Tests we have found to 
be the suggestion of lines of inquiry or the confirmation of 
evidence obtained in other ways. The results here were 
negative and in that confirmed what we knew from the 
history and character of our patient as a pure minded 
woman of blameless life. She was constitutionally timid, 
and all her life liable to doubts and fears of a morbid type. 
As an instance of this she told us that when twelve years of 
age while influenced by the death of her step-mother, which 
had just taken place, one morning early her father went out 
to his work leaving her in bed, and alone in the house. 
Immediately after he left she heard or more likely thought 
she heard, someone lift the latch of the door, as if to come in, 
but though no one came in she was left in a state of great 
fear, so marked that for long afterwards she dreaded being 
left alone, and still remembers vividly her feelings during 
that experience. This temperament she carried into her 
religious life which as we have seen was marked by fears and 
doubts. "No one will deny that fear is the type of asthenic 
manifestations. Yet is it not the mother of phantoms of 
numberless superstitions, of altogether irrational and chim- 
erical religious practices." 14 The strength and character of 
her beliefs as well as the religous teachings and influences 
which she had been subjected from her earliest years, all 
14 Ribot "The Creative Imagination.'* p 34 

414 ^ Case of Possession 

tended to develop the mystical in a temperament ready for 
the dissociation necessary to enable the mystic to attain to 
that ecstasy or absorption in something outside and beyond 
the self which is the essence of that state. Why the ecstasy 
which she knew and desired should pass into its opposite is 
not difficult to understand when the above history is con- 

The shock which originated the attack gave form and 
reality to fears and doubts which had been assailing her 
for some time, and to the influence of which she was specially 
liable at this time by the lowered physiological tension, the 
result of her previous menorrhagia, and by the fact that the 
comparative ease and comfort of her later life had given 
her opportunities for introspection absent during her previ- 
ous life of struggle for and interest in others. She was then 
scrupulous, timid and superstitious, a mystical, a psycho- 
pathic temperament, taking her place all the same with 
John Bunyan and other chief of sinners whose self-deprecia- 
tion and absorption in the struggle for salvation from sin 
and the power of the Devil, though morbid in character was 
not pathological. But when Satan became not .merely a 
spirit influencing her, but had entered bodily into her, the 
border was crossed, and she was to herself literally possessed, 
and became filled with fear, a fear pathological in action, 
dominating her mentally and physically during her dissoci- 
ated states. Once initiated it is not difficult to see how 
these dissociated states which recurred so regularly and per- 
sisted so long were kept up by her temperament, and her 
constantly recurring dreams of a terrifying or depressing 
character, which were, as we have already indicated, but 
representations of the original shock. The following quota- 
tion applies closely to her case. "On this view an intense, 
sudden painful experience, especially if the significance 
of it can be dimly felt, but not understood, may persist long 
and latently unassimilated by the central consciousness and 
without fusion with it, almost as if it were a foreign body 
in the psychic system." 15 Professor James has termed the 
pathological emotion an objectless emotion, but as Professor 
Dewey puts it "from its own standpoint it is not 

1 'Stanley Hall on Fear The American Journal of Psychology, April i 

Donald Fraser, M. D- 415 

it goes on at once to supply itself with an object,, with a 
rational excuse for being. " 16 Here the sensations in the 
left hypochondriiim which she had described as "grippings 
at the heart/' became the object which, under the influence 
of the initial shock with its unusual and alarming sensations 
and feelings, she interpreted as she did. 

Her recovery was very gradual and marked by many 
relapses. In her treatment as in our ideas as to the causation 
of the disorder, we put the accent on the psychic rather than 
on the physical factors. We did not however underrate 
the latter but constantly sought to improve her bodily 
health and condition. When at her worst in 1911 her 
weight, taken monthly, was round about one hundred and 
sixty pounds* In 1912 it -went up from one hundred and 
sixty-six to one hundred and eighty-eight pounds and aver- 
aged one hundred and seventy-six pounds. But as in the 
case of her blood pressure, the rise was due largely to her 
mental improvement. It may be of interest to note here 
that during and after a somewhat severe attack of diarrhoea 
with hemorrhage from the bowels, her mental condition was 
better than usual, as might even have been expected con- 
sidering the mental distraction the attack involved. 

We were satisfied that we could have shortened mater- 
ially the duration of her illness two years, by hypnotic 
suggestion, but unfortunately her friends objected to this 
mode of treatment. Suggestion in the waking state had 
been abundantly used, but with little apparent effect of an 
immediate kind. 

16 Psychological Review, Vol. I, page 562. 

41 6 

A Case of Possession 

5 - fS C> I 











Very depressed, with 
most distressing- 
delusions. Tinct. 
opii. 15 m. t.i.d. 

Still depressed, but 
a little better. 

Much better. 
Stil keeping well. 

Very depressed. 

A little better, but 
still depressed, 

Moaning- all day. 

Still depressed, but 
not so marked. 

Still depressed. 


still marked. 
Digitalis S m. t.Ld. 

Still very depressed. 
Still very depressed. 






Fair, depressed* but 
not markedly s/- 

Very depressed. 

Depressed, but not 

Fairly well. 
A little depressed* 


Depression very 
marked. Pat to bed* 

A littlt- hotter* but 
<itill depressed. 

Still a little 

Depressed morninr- 
Fairly well 

Very well. 
Bright and happy. 
Allowed up. 

Keeping fairly well* 
Tinct, o&ii. 
reduced to 

A little depressed. 






-" \- T 






































































y 1 


















Donald Fraser, M. D. 




















t>. a 









Pituitrin m. xii. t.Ld. 
Fairly well 


Fairly wdL 







Depressed tin 

i i 



Well afterwards. 









Very well. 







Pituitnn discoH- 



NTot quite so 

Very well. 








A little better. 







A little better, but 

still depressed. 


















^"ery depressed* 












Very depressed 

D ed 



and restless. 









Very much better. 

Very depressed* 


Wrote to her 

?ut quiet. 








A little depressed. 



with daugrhter. 










Very welL 



A 1iH-f*a rTA<nfaatf1 . 



n morning:. 




Rather better 


towards afternoon. 









A little depressed* 




Assistant Physician Bloomingdale Hospital 


A number of plant and flower symbols have a different 
significance from that which is generally given to them. 
We are all quite familiar with the grape vine of Bacchus and 
the association of that deity with grapes. According to 
R. P. Knight, this too, symbolizes a sexual attribute- 
Speaking of Bacchus, he writes, "The vine was a favorite 
symbol of the deity, which seems to have been generally 
employed to signify the generative or preserving attribute; 
intoxicating liquors were stimulative, and therefore held to 
be aphrodisiac. The vase is often employed in its stead to 
express the same idea and is often accompanied by the same 
accessory symbol. " 

We have often seen in sculptures and paintings, heads 
of barley associated with the God of the Harvest, This 
symbol would appear to be self explanatory; yet we are told 
by more than one writer that it contains another symbolic 
meaning as well. H, M. Westropp, speaking of this says, 
"The kites or female organ, as the symbol of the passive 
or productive power of nature, generally occurs on ancient 
Roman Monuments as the Concha Veneris, a fig, barley 
corn, and the letter Delta. " We are told that the grain of 
barley, because of its form, was a symbol of the vulva, 

A great many other female symbols might be mentioned. 
The pomegranate is constantly seen in the hands of Proser- 
pine. The fig-cone is carried by the Assyrian Baal, and 
the fig in numerous processions has a similar significance. 
When we add to these the various forms of tree worship 


Sanger Brown //., M. D. 419 

described above, we see to what an extent the products of 
nature were used as symbols in the worship of sex* 

Among flower symbols there is one which recurs con- 
stantly throughout the art and mythology of India, Egypt, 
China, and many other Eastern countries. This is the 
lotus, of which the Easter lily is the modern representative. 
The lotus appears in a number of forms in the records of 
antiquity. We have symbolic pictures of the lion carrying 
the lotus in its mouth, doubtless a male and female symbol. 
The deities of India are depicted standing on the lotus, 
or are spoken of as being "born of the Lotus." "The 
Chinese, "* says the author of Rites and Ceremonies, "wor- 
ship a Goddess whom they call Puzza, and of whom their 
priests give the following account; they say that 'three 
nymphs came down from heaven to wash themselves in the 
river, but scarce had they gotten in the water before the 
herb lotus appeared on one of their garments, with its 
coral fruit upon it. They were surprised to think whence it 
could proceed; and the nymph upon whose garment it was 
could not resist the temptation of indulging herself in tasting 
it. But by thus eating some of it she became pregnant, 
and was delivered of a boy, whom she brought up, and then 
returned to heaven. He afterwards became a great man, 
a conqueror and legislator, and the nymph was afterwards 
worshipped under the name of Puzza.*" Puzza corresponds 
to the Indian Buddha. 

In Egyptian architecture the lotus is a fundamental 
form, and indeed it is said to be the main motive of the 
architecture of that civilization. The capitals of the 
column are modelled after one form or other of this plant. 
That of the Doric column is the seed vessel pressed flat. 
Earlier capitals are simple copies of the bell or seed vessel. 
The columns consisted of stalks of the plant grouped to- 
gether. In other cases the leaves are used as ornaments. 
These orders were copied by the Greeks, and subsequently 
by western countries. 

We may ask ourselves, what is the meaning of this 
mystic lotus which was held in sufficient veneration to be 
incorporated in all the temples of religion, as well as in myths 

*O'Brien: The Round Towers of Ireland. 

420 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

of the deity. This, too, refers to the deification of sex. 
O'Brien, in the "Round Towers of Ireland 3 ' states; "The 
lotus was the most sacred plant of the Ancients, and typi- 
fied the two principles of the earth fecundation, the germ 
standing for the lingam ; the filaments and petals for the 

R. P. Knight states, "We find it (the lotus) employed 
in every part of the Northern Hemisphere where symbolical 
worship does or ever did prevail. The sacred images of 
the Tarters, Japanese or Indians, are all placed upon it 
and it is still sacred in Tibet and China. The upper part 
of the base of the lingam also consists of the flower of .it 
blended with the most distinctive characteristics of the 
female sex; in which that of the male is placed, in order to 
complete this mystic symbol of the ancient religion of the 
Brahmans; who, in their sacred writings, speak of Bi'ahma 
sitting upon his lotus throne." 

Alexander Wilder,* states that the term "Nymphe" 
and its derivations was used to designate young women, 
brides, the marriage chamber, the lotus flower, oracular 
temples and the labiae minores of the human female. 

The lotus then, which is found throughout antiquity, in 
art as well as in religion, was a sexual symbol, representing 
to the ancients the combination of male and female sexual 
organs. It is another expression of the sex worship of that 

Our present conventional symbols of art are very easily 
traced to ancient symbols of religion. We may expect 
.these .to be phallic in their meaning, to just the extent that 
phallicism was fundamental in the religions where these 
symbols originated. From the designs of some of the 
ornamental friezes of Nineveh, we find these principles 
illustrated. On those bas-reliefs is found the earliest form 
of art, really the dawn of art upon early civilization* Here 
is the beginning of certain designs which were destined to 
be carried to the later civilizations of Greece, Rome and 
probably of Egypt. These friezes show the pine cone 
alternating with a modified form of the lotus; the significance, 
of which symbols we have explained. There are also shown 

*The Symbolical Language of Ancient Art and Mythology. 

Sanger Brown II., M. ZX 421 

animal representations before the sacred tree or grove, a 
phallic symbol. From these forms and others were de- 
signed a number of conventional symbols which were used 
throughout a much later civilization. (See "Nineveh and 
Its Remains." A. Layard.) 


One sees in the religions of antiquity, especially those 
of India, Assyria, Greece and Egypt, a great number of 
sacred animal representations* The Bull was sacred to 
Osiris in Egypt, and one special animal was attended with , 
all the pomp of a god. At one time in Assyria the god was 
always associated with a sacred animal, often the goat, 
which was supposed to possess the qualities for which the 
god was worshipped. Out of this developed the ideal 
animal creations, of which the animal body and the human 
head and the winged bulls 'of Nineveh are examples. The 
mystic centaurs and satyrs originated from this source. 
At a later time the whole was- humanized, merely the horns, 
ears or hoofs remaining as relics of the animal form, 

We learn that in these religions the animal was not 
merely worshipped as such. It was a certain quality which 
was deified. The Assyrian goat attendant upon the deity, 
was in some bas-reliefs, not only represented in priapic 
attitudes, but a female sexual symbol was so placed as to 
signify sexual union. We shall show later that certain 
male and female symbolic animals were so placed on coins 
as to symbolically indicate sexual union. 

An animal symbol which has probably been of universal 
use is that of the snake or serpent. Serpent worship has 
been described in almost every country of which we have 
records or legends. In Egypt, we find the serpent on the 
headdress of many of the Gods. In Africa the snake is still 
sacred with many tribes. The worship of the hooded snake 
was probably carried from India to Egypt. The dragon 
on the flag and porcelain of China is also a serpent symbol. 
In Central America were found enormous stone serpents 
carved in various forms. In Scandinavia divine honors 
were paid to serpents, and the druids of Britain carried on 
a similar worship. 

422 7 'fie Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

Serpent worship has been shown by many writers to be 
a form of sex worship. It is often phallic, and we are told 
by Hargrave Jennings that the serpent possibly was added 
to the male and female symbols to represent desire. Thus, 
the Hindu women carried the lingam in procession between 
two serpents; and in the sacred procession of Bacchus the 
Greeks carried in a sacred casket the phallus, the egg, and 
a serpent. 

The Greeks also had a composite or ideal figure. Rays 
were added to the head of a serpent thereby bringing it into 
relation with the sun god Apollo; or the crest or comb of 
a cock was added with similar meaning. 

Many reasons have been offered to explain why the 
serpent has been used to represent the male generative 
attribute. Some have called attention to its tenacity of 
life; others have spoken of its supposed mystic power of 
regeneration by casting its skin. Again, it seems probable 
that the form is of symbolic significance. However this 
may be, we find that this universal serpent worship of 
primitive man was a form of phallicism so prevalent in 
former times. 

Many other animals may be mentioned. The sacred 
bull, so frequently met with in Egypt, Assyria and Greece, 
was a form under which Bacchus was worshipped. R. P. 
Knight speaks as follows; "The mystic Bacchus, or genera- 
tive power was represented under this form, not only upon 
coins but upon the temples of the Greeks; sometimes simply 
as a bull; at other times as a human face; and at others 
entirely human except the horns and ears." 

We would probably be in error to interpret all these 
mimal symbols as exclusively phallic although many were 
lefinitely so. Thus, while Hermes was a priapic deity, he 
vas also a deity of the fields and the harvests; so the bull 
nay have been chosen for its strength as well as its sexual 

There are many animals which were symbolic of 
he female generative power. The cow is frequently so 
mployed. The Hindus have the image of a cow in nearly 
very temple, the deity corresponding to the Grecian Venus, 
n the temple of Philae in Egypt, Isis is represented with the 

S anger Brown II., M. D. 423 

horns and ears of a cow joined to a beautiful woman. The 
cow is still sacred in many parts of Africa. The fish symbol 
was a very frequent representative of woman, the goddess 
of the Phoenicians being represented by the head and body 
of a woman terminating below in a fish. The head of 
Proserpine is frequently surrounded by dolphins. Indeed, 
the female principle is regularly shown by some representa- 
tive of water; fire and water respectively being regarded as 
male and female principles- 
Male and female attributes are often combined on coins 
for purposes of sexual symbolism. R. P. Knight explains 
these symbols as follows; "It appears therefore that the 
asterisk, bull, or minotaur, in the centre of a square or 
labyrinth equally mean the same as the Indian lingam, 
that is the male personification of the productive attribute 
placed in the female, or heat acting upon humidity. Some- 
times the bull is placed between two dolphins, and some- 
times upon a dolphin or another fish; and in other instances 
the goat or the ram occupy the same situation. Which 
are all different modes of expressing different modifications 
of the same meaning in symbolical or mystical writings. 
The female personifications frequently occupy the same 
place; in which case the male personification is always upon 
the reverse of the coin, of which numerous instances occur 
in those of Syracuse, Naples, Tarentum, and other cities. " 
By the asterisk above mentioned the writer refers to a circle 
surrounded by rays, a sun symbol of male significance. 
The square or labyrinth is the lozenge shaped symbol or 
yoni of India. 

The above interpretations throw much light on the 
obscurity of the animal worship of antiquity. This explains 
the partly humanized types, and the final appearance of a 
human deity with only animal horns remaining, as re- 
presenting the form under which the deity was once wor- 
shipped. The satyrs, centaurs, and other animal forms 
are all part of these same representations and are similarly 

Our main object in giving the above account of these 
various svmbols has been to illustrate the wide orevalence 

424 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

of sex worship among primitive races. Another end as 
well has been served; our study gives us a certain insight 
into the type of mind which evolves symbolism, and so a 
few remarks on the use of symbolism as here illustrated are 
not inappropriate. 

We feel that while this symbolism may indicate a high 
degree of mechanical skill in execution, it does not follow 
that it expresses either deep or complicated intellectual 
processes. In fact, we are inclined to regard such symbol- 
ism as the indication of a comparatively simple intellect. 
It appears obscure and involved to us, because we do not 
understand the symbols. From those which we do under- 
stand, the meaning is graphically but simply expressed. 

On coins, bas-reliefs and monuments, we find the 
majority of these simple emblems. If the desire is to express 
the union of male and female principles, a male symbolic 
animal is simply placed upon the corresponding female 
symbol. Thus, a goat or bull may be placed upon the back 
of a dolphin or other fish* This is a graphic presentation 
but certainly one of a most simple nature. Sometimes 
the male symbol is on one side of the coin and then the 
female is always on the reverse. Unions are made which 
do not occur in nature, and the representation is not a subtle 

In India, if there was a desire to express a number of 
attributes of the deity, another head or face is added or 
additional arms are added to hold up additional symbols* 
In Greece, when the desire was to express the androgyne 
qualities of the deity, a beard was added to the female face, 
:>r one half of the statuette represented the male form, 
:he other the female. Such representations do not indicate 
jreat ingenuity, however skillfully they may be executed. 


As is generally known, traces of sun worship are found 
n almost every country of which we have a record. In 
-gyp t & a was the supreme sun god where there was very 
laborate worship conducted in his honor. In Greece, 
was attended with similar festivities. In the Norse 

Sanger Brown //., M. D* 425 

mythology, many of the myths deal with the worship of the 
sun in one form or another. In England, Stonehenge and 
the entire system of the Druids^had to do with solar worship. 
In Central America and Peru, temples to the sun were of 
amazing splendor, furnished as they were with wonderful 
displays of gold and silver. The North American Indians 
have many legends relating to sun worship and sacrifices 
to the sun, and China and Japan give numerous instances 
of the same religion. Sun worship is so readily shown to 
be fundamental with primitive races that we will not discuss 
it in detail at this time, but rather will give the conclusions 
of certain writers who have explained its meaning. 

At the present day, the sun is regularly regarded as a 
male being, the earth a female. We speak of Mother Earth, 
etc.; in former times, the ancients depicted the maternal 
characteristics of the earth in a much more material way. 
Likewise the sun was a male deity, being often the war god, 
vigorous and all powerful. We readily see to what an extent 
the male sun god was portrayed in mythology as a human 
being- In many myths, the god dies during the winter, 
reappears in the Spring, is lamented in the Fall, etc., all in 
keeping with the changes in the activity of the sun during 
the different seasons. 

The moon was associated with the female deity of the 
ancients. Isis is accompanied by the moon on most coins 
and emblems. Venus has the same symbols. "Indeed, the 
star and crescent of our modern times, of the Turkish flag 
and elsewhere, are in reality the sun and crescent of an- 
tiquity, male and female symbols in conjunction. Lunar 
ornaments of pre-historic times have been found throughout 
England and Ireland, and doubtless explain the superstitions 
about the moon in those countries. The same prehistoric 
ornaments are found in Italy. In the legends of the North 
American Indians, Moon is Sun's wife. 

The full extent of these beliefs is pointed out by Mr. 
John Newton in Ct Assyrian Grove Worship. " Here we see 
that the ancient Hindus gave a much more literary relation- 
ship between the sun and earth than we are accustomed to 
express in modern times. He states, "This representative 
of the union of the sexes typifies the divine Sakti, or produc- 

426 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

tive energy, in union with the pro-creative or generatr 
power as seen throughout nature. The earth was t] 
primitive pudendum or yoni which is fecundated by tl 
solar heat, the sun, the primitive linga, to whose vivifyir 
rays man and animals, plants and the frxiits of the cart! 
owe their being and continued existence, " 

It is not possible to discuss Sun worship at any lengt 
without at the same time discussing phallicism and serper 
worship. Hargrave Jennings, who has made careful stud 
of these worships, points out their general identity in th 
following paragraph. He states : "The three most celebrate 
emblems carried in the Greek mysteries were the phallus 
the egg, and the serpent; or otherwise the phallus, the yor 
or umbilicus, and the serpent. The first in each case i 
the emblem of the sun or of fire, as the male or activ 
generative power. The second denotes the passive natur< 
or female principle or the emblem of water. The thirc 
symbol indicates the destroyer, the reformer or the renewer 
(the uniter of the two) and thus the preserver or perpetuate 
eternally renewing itself. The universality of serpentin< 
worship (or Phallic adoration) is attested by emblematic 
sculptures or architecture all the world over. " 

The author of the u Round Towers of Ireland" in dis- 
cussing the symbols of sun worship, serpent worship anc 
phallicism, found on the same tablet, practically reiterates 
these statements. He says: "I have before me the sameness 
of design which belonged indifferently to solar worship and 
to phallic. I shall, ere long, prove that the same charac- 
teristic extends equally to ophiolatreia; and if they all three 
be identical, as it thus necessarily follows, -where is the 
occasion for surprise at our meeting the sun, phallus and 
serpent, the constitutent symbols of each, embossed upon 
the same table and grouped under the same architrave?" 

By a number of references, we could readily show the 
identity of all these worships. The preceding paragraphs 
give, in summary form, the conclusions of those writers 
who have made suqh religions their special study. We shall 
not exemplify this further, but will now point out the general 
relationship of sun worship to the religious festivals and 
mythology of the Ancients. This relationship becomes 

S anger Brown II., M. ZX 427 

important when it is appreciated that the sun worship 
expressed in the mysteries is also a part of phallicism. 
On some of these festive occasions the phallus was carried 
in the front of the procession and at other times the egg, 
the phallus and the serpent were carried in the secret casket. 


The Ancients expressed their religious beliefs in a 
dramatic way on a number of occasions throughout the year. 
The festivities were held in the Spring, Autumn, or Winter. 
These were to commemorate the activities of the sun, his 
renewed activity in the Spring calling forth rejoicing and 
his decline in the Fall being the cause of sorrow and lamenta- 
tion. As well as the festivities, there were the various 
mysteries, such as the Eleusinia, the Dionysia and the 
Bacchanalia. These were conducted by the priests who 
moulded religious beliefs and guarded their secrets. The 
mysteries were of the utmost importance and the most 
sacred of religious conceptions were here dramatized. 

Mythology also gave expression to the religious ideas 
of the time and we find that the most important myths, 
dramatically produced at the religious festivals, were sun 

The annual festivities and mysteries will be discussed 
together because both were intended to dramatize the 
same beliefs. Both were under priestly control and so were 
national institutions. The festivals were for the common 
people but the mysteries were fully understood only to the 

While no very clear account of the mysteries has been 
given, a certain theme seems to run through them all, and 
this is found in the myths as welL A drama is enacted, in 
which the god is lost, is lamented, and is found or returns 
amid great rejoicing.* This was enacted in Egypt where 
the mourning was for Osiris; and in Greece for Adonis, and 
later for Bacchus. All these are, of course, sun gods, and the 
whole dramatization or myth is in keeping with the activities 
of the sun. 

*The Enactment and Rebirth. 

428 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

On these occasions, the main object seems to have 
been to restore the lost god, or to insure his reappearance. 
The women took the leading part and mourned for Osiris, 
Adonis or Bacchus. They wandered about the country at 
night in the most frenzied fashion, avoided all men and 
sought the god. At times, during the winter festival, the 
quest would be fruitless* In the Spring, when they indulged 
themselves in all sorts of orgies and extravagances, Adonis 
was found. 

The underlying motive appears to have been to enact a 
drama in which the deity was supposed to exercise his 
procrcative function by sexual union with the women. 
This "was an ideal which they wished to express dramatically. 
In order to realize this ideal obstacles were introduced that 
they might be overcome; in the old myth, Adonis was 
emasculated under a pine tree, and in Egypt Osiris was 
similarly mutilated, his sex organs being lost. But at the 
festivals it was portrayed that Adonis was found, and in 
the myth, Osiris was restored to Isis in the form of Horns 
(the morning sun). In a number of myths, the god is said 
to have visited the earth to cohabitatc with the women, an 
occurrence which was doubtless desired, in order that the 
deistic attributes might be continued in the race. Thus, 
judging from what we have been able to learn of this subject, 
the worship expressed in the mysteries revolved about 
sexual union, the desire being to dramatize the continued 
activity of deistic qiialities. 

This character of many of the festivals and mysteries 
is very evident. In the Eleusinian mysteries the rape of 
Persephone by Pluto, the winter god, is portrayed. The 
mother, Demeter, mourns for her daughter. Her mourning 
is dramatically carried out by a large procession, and this 
enactment requires several days. Finally Persephone is 
restored. The earlier part of the festival was for dramatic 
interest, and the real object was the union of Per- 
sephone with Bacchus. "The union of Persephone with 
Bacchus, i.e., with the sun god, whose work is to promote 
fruitfulness, is an idea special to the mysteries and means 
the union of humanity with the godhead, the consummation 
aimed at in the mystic rites. Hence, in all probability the 

Sanger Brown //., Af. D. 429 

central teaching of the mysteries' was Personal Immortality, 
analogue of the return of the bloom to plants in Spring."* 

The mysteries of Samothrace were probably simpler. 
Here the phallus was carried in procession as the emblem of 
Hermes. In the Dionysian mysteries which were held in 
mid-winter, the quest of the women was unsuccessful and 
the festival was repeated in the Spring. The Roman 
mysteries of Bacchus were of much later development, and 
consequently became very debased. Men as well as women 
eventually came to take part in the ceremony, and the whole 
affair degenerated into the grossest of sexual excesses and 

We have stated what appears to us to have been the 
underlying motives of the religious festivals and mysteries; 
namely, the enactment of a drama in which the reproductive 
qualities of the deity were portrayed. The phallus was 
carried in procession for this purpose and the women 
dramatized the motive as searching for the god. Our 
account can be regarded as' little more than an outline, but 
it is sufficient for our present purposes. It indicates that 
the mysteries give an expression of phallic worship, just as 
do the various monuments of art and religion to which we 
have referred. It may also be said that this same worship 
is represented in what may be termed early literature, for 
much of the early mythology deals with the same subject. 
The study of origins in mythology" however, cannot be 
dealt with adequately in our present communication, 


We have now traced the worship of sex, as recorded 
by the monuments of antiquity, through its various phases. 
In its simplest form, the generative organs are worshipped 
without disguise; the sexual act also forms a part of religious 
ceremonies. Later, a rude symbolism develops. As the 
race becomes more advanced, this becomes more elaborate, 
until finally a considerable degree of ingenuity and skill are 
evidenced. The worship of sex is not only expressed in 
religious usages, but comes to dominate early art as "well; 

*Dr. Otto Rhyn, Mysteria. 

43 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 

it is also expressed in mythology, and so we find the same 
symbolical and allegorical expressions in early literature. 
In fact, the deepest thoughts of primitiv races, as expressed 
in their religion, eventually dominate most of the customs 
and usages of every day life. 

We may appropriately ask, why did primitive people 
deify the sexual organs? This question may be answered 
when we understand the religious ceremonies of primitive 
tribes. The earliest objects worshipped were those which 
were of known benefit to man. The Aborigines of Australia 
have very elaborate ceremonies which superficially seem 
meaningless but when understood have a very definite 
meaning. This aim is to ensure some certain product of the 
earth. If it is a Yam* ceremony, an elaborate procedure is 
carried out which is supposed to make yams grow. There 
is a secret ceremonial object which is a symbol of the yam 
and which bears to it more or less resemblance. Othercere- 
monies are carried out for similar purposes. The meaning of 
all these semi-religious performances, as clearly shown by 
Spencer Baldwin, is to ensure the benfits which nature gives. 
This, in brief, explains nature worship, and were it our 
object at present, it would be most interesting to show the 
peculiar resemblance of these ceremonies to those carried on 
in sex worship. 

As the early races advanced in knowledge, they came to 
know that the perpetuation of the race depended upon genera- 
tive attributes. For this reason human generative attributes 
were deified and appropriate ceremonies were held, just as 
in the case of nature worship. These are not "lewd prac- 
tices, 5 ' as they are not infrequently called. It is indeed 
regrettable that the subject of sex worship has been dis- 
regarded by many historians, as thereby erroneous impres- 
sions are given. The facts of nature worship have always 
been much better understood and its importance has been 
realized; those of sex worship have been less carefully re- 

The literature and philosophy which we are accustomed 
to associate with Greek thought are of a later date. Once 
such abstract reasoning is possible, sex worship is no longer. 

A kind of sweet potato. 

Sanger Brown II., M. D. 431 

seriously entertained. The symbolism remains, but is 
associated now, not so much with religion as with art. 
Likewise in India, the early Buddhism, which was sex wor- 
ship, has changed to the present day Buddhistic Philosophy, 
the symbols alone remaining. 

From all this we are inclined to believe that in sex 
worship we are dealing with important motives in the 
development of the race. We make no pretence of having 
exhausted the subject in this communication. The de- 
cadence of this religion, as observed in the early Christian 
period, and in fact well through the middle ages, forms a 
very interesting history. It is not our purpose, however, 
to deal with it at present. Likewise, it should be under- 
stood that the motives which we have been discussing are 
not necessarily the earliest manifested in racial development; 
we have a record of a time in the history of man when the 
worship of sex had not yet made its appearance; but this 
period also is not a part of our present topic. 

The influence of early racial motives upon present 
day civilization is a topic of great interest. Its importance 
is, in fact, the main object of studies of this kind. However, 
we wish our account to be mainly an historical one, and so 
will not at present make reference to a number of applica- 
tions which arise. We have also refrained from making 
use of the modern writings on matters of sex, as we thereby 
avoid criticism to the effect that our findings have been 
drawn from biased sources. We feel that while the reader 
may disagree in certain details as here set forth, the universal 
appearance of sex worship at a certain stage of racial develop- 
ment is scarcely to be denied. The writers whom we have 
cited are all of a former generation, and they were searching 
for origins in religion, not in sexual life; inadvertently they 
found the latter, in fact could not avoid it, and so their 
conclusions are all the more valuable to us. 

432 The Sex Worship and Symbolism of Primitive Races 


Cox, Rev. G. W.: The Mythology of the Aryan Nations 

Deiterich, A.: Mutter Erde. 

Fraser, J. G. : Adonis, Attis and Osiris; Balder, the Beautiful 
Psyche's Task. 

Grosser The Beginnings of Art. 

Higgins, Godfrey: The Anacalypsis; Celtic Druids. 

Harrison, Miss Jane: Ancient Art and Ritual; Themis. 

Howitt, A. W.: The Native Tribes of South East Australia. 

Inman, Dr. Thomas: Ancient Faiths Embodied in Ancient 
Names; Ancient Pagan and Modern Christian Symbolism. 

Jennings, Hargrave: The Rosicrucians; The Indian Religions. 

King, C. W: The Gnostics and their Remains; Hand-book of 
Engraved Gems. 

Knight, R. P. : The Symbolical Language of Ancient Art and 
Mythology; Two Essays on the Worship of Priapus. 

Layard, A.: Babylon and Nineveh; Nineveh and its Remains. 

Murray, Gilbert: Hamlet and Orestes. 

Newton, John: Assyrian Grove Worship. 

O'Brien, Henry: The Round, Towers of Ireland. 

Rawlinson, G. : History of Ancient Egypt; Ancient Monarch- 

Rhyn, Dr. Otto: Mysteria. 

Rocco, Sha: Ancient Sex Worship. 

Spencer, B. : Native Tribes of the Northern Territory of 

Westropp, Hodder M. : Primitive Symbolism. 

Wood, Rev. J. G. : The Uncivilized Races. 


(Primitive customs, religious usages, etc.) 

Bryant: System of Mythology. 

DeGubernatis, Angelo: Zoological Mythology. 

Judson: Myths and Legends of the Mississippi Valley and 
the Great Lakes. 

Langdon, S.: Tammuz and Ishtar. 

Perrot, and Chipiez: History of Art in Phrygia, Lidia, Caria 
and Lycia; History of Art in Persia. 

Prescott: Conquest of Peru. 

Rousselet, Louis: India and Its Native Princes. 

Stevens, J. : Central America, Chiapez and Yucatan. 

Solas, W. J. : Ancient Hunters. 

Wood-Martin: Pagan Ireland. 

*For a number of additional references consult New Yoijk 
Library under Phallicism. 


THE MEANING OF DREAMS. By Isador H. Coriat. Little, 
Brown and Company, Boston, 1915, Pages xiv plus 194. 

This concise and well written little book hardly needs review- 
ing for the readers of the Journal of Abnormal Psychology as all 
who have followed Dr. Coriat's writings for the last few years will 
know at once the nature of the book and what it contains. His . 
purpose is evidently to give a simple clear statement of the posi- 
tion of the Freudian school and he accomplishes this with more 
than ordinary success. He is lavish in his praises of Freud and 
seemingly accepts unquestionably the whole mass of Freudian 
doctrines. One searches in vain for the least question or the 
slightest suggestion that some of the Freudian concepts might 
possibly be wrong. Everywhere the words of Freud and the 
beliefs of the author are given as absolute, eternal and unques- 
tionable. He incorporates some of the recent additions to the 
Freudian teachings, such as Brill's treatment of the "artificial 
dream, " but concerning the fundamentals hejeaves the original 
doctrines without noticeable modification. In discussing the 
mechanisms of dreams he adds a fifth to the original four, calling 
his addition "reinforcement." Reinforcement is the mechanism by 
which "the prominent or primary wish of the dream is reinforced, 
expressed anew for the purpose of emphasis by means of a second 
dream following the first, really a dream within a dream. " With 
this exception he leaves the original Freudian -teachings intact 
and unchanged. He says that a dream is the fulfilment of a wish 
and no modifications of the statement follow that could possibly 
make one think he meant anything else. His definite position is 
stated as follows :"The term 'wish' in psycho-analysis is very com- 
prehensive and connotes in a broad sense all our desires, ambitions 
or strivings. " He illustrates his points by numerous dreams which 
he has himself analyzed. He will probably meet some objection 
from those who are not ardent Freudians concerning some of these 
dreams as the interpretation is not always "perfectly clear" 
as he says it is to him. Some may say that at least a dozen other 
interpretations might just as well and just as logically have been 
given, but this is the objection that is raised concerning all Freud- 
ian literature. The best characterization of the book is to say 
that it is typically Freudian. 

(As a side issue, it is interesting to notice how many of the 
dreams given relate to the European War. Some one has said that 


434 Reviews 

America shows her concern over the war by the way Americans 

There are two characteristics of the book which are worthy 
of special mention and for which Dr. Coriat needs special praise. 
One of these is that it is so simply written that the general public 
can read it and understand it. No other Freudian publication 
which the reviewer has seen can boast of the same simplicity. 
The other point is that absolutely everything concerning sex 
which could possibly be objectionable has been ruled out. There 
s not a word or a sentence in the book that a precise maiden lady 
need hesitate to read to her Sunday School class or at a pink tea. 
In doing this Dr. Coriat has indeed achieved the impossible as all 
will readily agree. This book is probably too elementary for the 
majority of the readers of the Journal of Abnormal Psychology 
but it is destined to fill a place which no previous Freudian publica- 
tion could ever fill; it is a book for the general public and the be- 
ginner in psychology and for this purpose it is truly a little gem. 

Emory and Henry College. 

THERAPY. By Professor J. Dejerine and Dr. E. Gauckler. Author- 
ized Translation by Smith Ely Jelliffe, M. ZX Ph. D. J. B. Lippin- 
cott Co., Philadelphia, Pa. 

This book is another instance of the lack of a common nt>- 
'menclature in psychopathology. Psychological mechanisms are 
penetratingly discussed; and important syntheses are made 
regarding categories which many American psychopathologists 
name differently not to speak of the nomenclature of the re- 
pressionist of Vienna. It seems to the reviewer indeed, that what 
the authors call neurasthenia is merely a somewhat complex 
elaboration of the psychosis by induction to which Babinski has 
restricted the name hysteria. It is true that certain manifesta- 
tions of this, especially a false gastropathy, may lead to an in- 
creased fatigue, and to this the name neurasthenic might appro- 
priately be given. But still more often one sees the appearance of 
increased fatigue on account of the patient's faulty notion; and 
to this the name neurasthenic sh'ould certainly not be given. 

To place in the same rubric a simple somatic hysteria like a 
paralysis and the complications of what are comprised in psycho- 
logical neurasthenia as so lucidly described in this book, seems 
at first sight irrational; but so at first appeared the placing together 
of clinical pictures as unlike as cervical struma, phthisis pulmonalis 
and ossious caries under the rubric of tuberculosis; and in a nearer 
field the ^ synthesis of catatonia, hebephrenia and dementing 
paranoia into the rubric of dementia precox. So, recognizing 

Reviews 43 5 

the accuracy of the beautiful analysis of Professor Dejerine of 
what he calls neurasthenia, we venture to assimilate it with the 
equally true analysis which Babinski has made of the immediate 
mechanism of what he wishes to call pithiatism. It is the con- 
dition which we personally term hysteria, and the mechanism of 
which we have more especially studied in the traumatic neuroses 
and the occupational dyskinesias and some other disorders incident 
to the exercise of trade or profession. Indeed, the authors 
say: "One can see that the helmet headache, the pain in 
the nape of the neck, and the pain in the spine are frequent 
among cultivated people and educated neurasthenics, but much 
rarer among the others" and he explains this by saying that these 
disturbances "are due to the diffusion of the attention towards 
obsessions or preoccupations;" and he gives as an example the 
reply of a patient " I think of my illness or such vicissitude by 
which it was brought about." Indeed, in one place, Professor 
Dejerine goes so far as to permit himself to say that the hypochon- 
driac preoccupation itself constitutes originally a purely intellectual 
conception, a propos of which, but secondarily to it the patient 
really may work up an emotion, but which is really not of emotional 
origin, a position first taken and long insisted upon by the reviewer. 

What is this when traced to its source but the mechanism of 
suggestion? The portion of the book describing the functional 
manifestations of the digestive system is charged with most 
illuminating instances of associational mechanism typifying the 
induction of morbid reactions by suggestion. No one perusing 
them can fail to perceive that the psychological process at work 
does not differ in principle from that found in the somatic 
hysterias, from which therefore their separation seems unjustifi- 
able, and at the hands of so eminent an author is likely to main- 
tain rather than diminish present psychological misunderstanding. 

The dissimilarity of terms and resemblances of ideas has 
another illustration in the reference to energy and the will; here it 
is clearly pointed out that the apparent aboulia of the "neuras- 
thenic" is not a lack, but an unfruitful directing of the will; 
while the Viennese school imply the same idea in their doctrine of 

The authors believe that neurasthenia differs from the 
psychasthenia of Janet in that the latter is constitutional, and 
that the obsessions are secondary, when analysed profoundly, to 
some pain-bearing contingency which by the mechanism of 
association has pervaded the mind and which henceforth distorts 
it with subsequent realities. And yet when Dejerine lays stress 
upon the fact that badly organized moral hygiene conduces to the 
emotional preoccupations which lead to obsessions and which he 
regards as the essential characteristics of the neurasthenic con- 
stitution, he leaves no apparent distinction from the psychasthenia 
of Janet. 

"The fundamental distinction of neurasthenia is causation by 
emotion, " but the authors have not extricated this factor from the 

436 Reviews 

role played by induction either of idea or its secondary emotion. 
In such, a fundamental matter as anaesthesia for instance, they 
say: "In our opinion there exist three classes of hysterical anes- 
thesia. In the first series of facts one may place the cases due to 
simulation. In the second group of cases we shall range the 
patients in whom the disturbances of sensibility are directly due 
to suggestion. Finally there remains a third class of patients in 
whom the disturbances of sensibility seem to us to be residual 
emotional phenomena/' 

"Emotion is able to suppress sensibility entirely by producing 
absolute side-tracking, and that under such circumstances it was 
really a question of total anesthesia and not purely psycho- 
anesthesia. When the state has passed and the emotional cause 
has disappeared the sensibility may return, but anesthesia which 
is preserved may also .persist, either by auto-suggestion or as 
in the case of the individual who remarks that he felt none of 
the various injuries which he has experienced, or it is a question of 
simple residual phenomenon independent of all suggestion." And 
yet, further on, the authors say that the phenomena of auto- 
suggestion cannot be separated from the emotion. All this lacks 
clarity; and except in the instances of failure of perception or of 
auto-suggestion, the mechanism is not intelligibly set forth. 

The authors, however, although under the deplorable classi- 
fication of neurasthenia or hysteria, depart from the usual thera- 
peutic methods and seek the cause of the patient's disease outside 
of the objective symptoms and declare that the "element of 
diagnosis lies chiefly in the origin oi the symptoms." 

They make much of the assertion that Dr. Weir MitchelPs 
method of treatment is based practically upon isolation, rest in 
bed, over-feeding, douches, massage and electricity, in fact on 
purely physical measures and Professor Dejerine adds: "I was 
not long in discovering that unless the patient's state of mind 
improved, the. therapeutic results were far from satisfactory;" 
and he gives examples. 

But in spite of the objections to the nosology and psycho- 
pathological theory of the authors, there remains nothing but the 
highest praise for the presentation of the clinical facts and of the 
sound advice regarding the therapy of various functional mani- 
festations, and concerning the role of the physician in the pro- 
phylaxis of the psychogenic neuroses. It is most desirable that 
every physician should be aware of the clinical facts which Pro- 
fessor Dejerine has accumulated in his vast experience. In gynae- 
cology, gastroenterology, cardiology and genitounary disease 
the psychogenetic affections are ignored by mdst physicians. 

This book will give a better understanding of what 
practitioner of those specialities should be familiar withu